


Baldur's Gate II: The Ransom

by Capreola



Series: Baldur's Gate II [1]
Category: Baldur's Gate
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Expansion, Canon Related, Canon-Typical Violence, Female Friendship, Gen, In Medias Res, Male-Female Friendship, Not Enhanced Edition, Novelization, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Paladin!Charname, To Be Edited
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-15 08:47:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 21
Words: 34,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28560810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Capreola/pseuds/Capreola
Summary: Lidia thought that Imoen was captured because of a misunderstanding and that rescuing her would be simple. Unfortunately, few things in Athkatla ever are.Updates Mondays and Fridays at 8 PM UTC -6.
Relationships: Other Relationship Tags to Be Added, Romantic Subplot - Relationship
Series: Baldur's Gate II [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2092578
Comments: 5
Kudos: 3





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I got into _Baldur’s Gate_ and _Baldur’s Gate II_ a few years ago. I finished playing the series within a month of starting it. And as the final cutscene in _Throne of Bhaal _played, I suddenly wanted to re-tell this Charname’s story. I’ve been working on this fic on and off since then, and I finally feel ready to put it out there._  
>  I’m probably not doing anything new. Mostly I would like to give this game the novelization it deserved but never got, for reasons that the author Philip Athans lays out [here.](https://fantasyhandbook.wordpress.com/2015/08/04/my-bad-short-bad-book/) My goal was to stay true to the spirit of the game without necessarily trying to translate every single detail. Think of it like the scenic route on a highway: you’ll still get to a place you recognize, but the path may take some turns along the way.  
> I hope you enjoy this fic as much as I enjoyed writing it -- it’s easily the most difficult and rewarding project I’ve ever worked on.  
> -C_

A cry for help roused Lidia from where she lay, curled at the base of the rubble. Her limbs were shaking, smudged with dust and dirt and streaked with a number of red-pink scratches. Some of the scratches were already drawing blood.

She tried to answer the cry with a shout, but convulsed with several coughs. Dust coated the inside of her throat.

She eased her eyes open. When she and her companions had emerged a few minutes ago, her sight had been immediately overwhelmed by the noonday sun. She was still half dazzled, but the brightness was beginning to resolve itself into shapes.

She had fallen into a stone stadium, but instead of spectators lining its walls, there were a number of doors and windows, with walkways on each of the four levels. A small crowd had gathered at the spot where the rubble spilled, retreating when she had tumbled down to them.

Lidia looked up the pile of jumbled, pale yellow bricks behind her. From where she was, she couldn’t see the top, but she knew who was still there: her friend Imoen, her captor Irenicus, and several wizards in dark cowls. Before she fell, the top of the pile had been filled with rumbles and chants and displays of magical power. Now everything was eerily silent, but she couldn’t say why. All she knew for certain was that Imoen didn’t stand a chance without help. Lidia knew that her own skills would be nearly useless in the fight above.

She began to pull herself to her feet, leaning forward to climb back up.

* * *

“Halt!” someone bellowed. “Hands on your head!” She stopped, leaning back on her knees, and coughed a few more times. Obeying the order, and not daring to make any other movement or sound, she turned towards the voice.

Two guards advanced towards her. They each wore a hauberk and black livery bearing a pearl ringed with six golden stars. They stopped just out of striking range, halberds tilted towards her.

One of them said, his voice softer: “Good. Easy does it.”

He held position while the other guard strode forward and helped himself to the sword in its scabbard upon her belt. He studied her from beneath his helmet, looked towards the top of the rubble, and called out, “Wizard, here’s another one for you.”

A figure in a dark grey cloak floated down from the top of the rubble, landing softly upon the basalt pavers. Up close, the wizard was clearly a woman, and perhaps an elf, to judge by her slender frame. Long bell sleeves hid her hands, a hood the top of her face. Without a glimpse of olive skin about the throat, she might have been mistaken for a specter.

“This one cast no spells,” she said, her voice a contralto. “We have those involved. Deal with her as you see fit.”

Lidia opened her mouth, swallowed a few times, then tried again. “Wait,” she called out.

The wizard stopped without looking at her. “My friend was with me. You took her?”

“Yes. Only we and those we sanction may practice the arcane arts here.” The wizard started walking again.

“Please, I can explain -- ”

The wizard didn’t acknowledge her. A wide white halo grew out of her hand, crackling and casting a glimmering veil within its ring. When it reached her height, she stepped through. Both she and the halo disappeared from view.

* * *

“Keep your hands on your head,” the guard said. “Your bill’s not paid yet, friend.”

Lidia checked her movement. The crowd was beginning to leave, now that the spectacle was over, but another man in the same livery strode forward through them. The guards saluted him with an arm crossed over their breast.

“At ease,” the third man said. Unlike the other two guards, his helmet covered neither his face nor his keen, dark eyes. “What goes on here? I heard some mages were causing a disturbance.”

“The Cowled Wizards spirited them away,” one of the guards said, then gestured to Lidia. “But we have someone who might know something.”

“Good. Take her to the garrison.” The guards’ superior turned and left, calling three more guards towards him. “Secure this area until more help arrives. Someone might still be buried alive under there.”

* * *

Both the guards raised her to her feet, bound her hands in front with a rope, put a blindfold over her eyes. One of them -- she suspected the deeper-voiced guard -- roughly pushed her forward. The ill-fitting leather breastplate she wore absorbed most of the blow. Lidia stumbled, but managed to stay standing.

“Don’t like it?” The softer-voiced guard talked as the three of them started walking. “We’ve got to protect ourselves, but if you give us a show of good faith, we can make it easier.”

“I’ve already given up my sword,” she said.

The softer-voiced guard continued, “I mean that we don’t get paid nearly as well as we ought, if you get my drift. Help us and we’ll help you.”

She glared towards the voice. “You’re joking.”

“That’s the way here,” the deeper-voiced guard said. “Gentle treatment and answered questions will cost you. We can work something out.”

She sincerely hoped that he was only talking about gold. “What little I have wouldn’t satisfy you,” she said. She felt another hard push. She broadened her stance to keep herself balanced.

* * *

She didn’t speak for the rest of the time, and instead spent the next half hour focusing on clues that pointed out to where she might be; it also kept her mind off her fatigue and the stinging scratches on her arms and legs. The overpowering smell of spices and shouts of merchants and customers eventually gave way to the more familiar smell and sounds of animals and people passing by on the street. As time wore on, she could have sworn she heard the sound of water.

Eventually, the guards stopped and turned her to the right. Their steps creaked up some stairs, and a heavy door shut behind them. 

“Will the holding cells do?” the softer-voiced guard asked.

“She won’t start anything,” the other said gruffly. “And everywhere else here is full. They’ll do.”

She found herself half guided, half shoved through a door. Even from behind her blindfold, everything darkened. They let her go and shut the door. The steps began to fade, until they paused earlier than they should have, and then grew louder again as they returned.

The door opened again. She faced where the light grew and pulled herself up to her full height, not flinching when one of the guards drew closer.

The softer-voiced guard said, "You're lucky Aegisfield is coming." He loosened the knots on her hands and on the back of her head, and then removed the blindfold and bindings. Just as quickly as he did, he turned on his heel and left, the door closing behind him.


	2. Chapter 2

Lidia had stayed in far more jail cells than the average upstanding citizen. Without chains or jailors, this one was the most pleasant. 

The floor was wooden, once polished but now worn in the center, and a bench resting against the slatted side walls gave her a place to sit. The door was locked, but not as sturdy as it could be; after gently rapping on it a few times, she guessed that it was only made of one layer of wood. A small barred window in the door gave her a place to peek out. 

Down a hallway immediately to her left were a few doors similar to hers, and to her right was one more door about twenty feet away. The door was covered with the same sigil the guards wore: six gold stars around an embroidered pearl, set upon black. 

She now had time to think, and she remembered: it was the symbol of the city of Athkatla. She was almost certain that she’d emerged in the great market of Waukeen’s Promenade. She sunk her head into her hands, leaning against the wall. In her old home, in the library-fortress of Candlekeep, she’d overheard the monks complain about this country’s harsh restrictions on magic. She’d gotten hints that they were being held here. If she’d thought about her plan for escape a little more, perhaps --

She descended to the floor, took a deep breath, and turned her mind from regret and anger, from things that were now out of her hands. The Cowled Wizards had somehow captured Irenicus. Wherever Imoen was, he could no longer hurt her. She prayed to the Crying God that Imoen could survive the wait until things could be set right. And, whatever else happened, the others had gotten away.

* * *

The guards still had her sword, but her small leather pack had remained on her back. She removed it, loosened the fastening, and gently placed the contents on the floor. She hoped nothing was broken from her tumble down the rubble. 

She only had a few things with her. A leather drawstring bag no bigger than her palm, holding a few copper and silver pieces that were stamped with the symbol of Amn. A small water bottle. A hard, grainy biscuit, wrapped in one of the cleanest cloths she’d scavenged. A mostly empty blank book and a crude pencil, taken from Irenicus’s library. Several spell scrolls. She’d counted on selling them to get by, at least to start; she realized now that finding a buyer probably wouldn’t be that easy. 

Each minute seemed to last longer than it had any right to, but she found ways to pass the time. First, she moistened the biscuit with some of the water and ate it slowly; it was the first food she’d had in at least half a day. Then she removed the long strips of cloth wrapped tightly around her arms and legs. She had no other protection besides an ill-fitting leather breastplate, so it was the best she could have done for her limbs. Good thing she’d taken the extra step, too: without the bindings, the rubble would have marked a lot more on her way down.

* * *

It was said that everyone had their fates decided at birth by a flip of a coin. Beshaba, the goddess of bad luck, called either one side of the coin or the other, and Tymora, goddess of fortune, tossed it. The game’s victor could decide someone’s destiny. A hermit had once told Lidia that she was free to choose her own fate, for her coin had landed on its edge. Even if that were true, she still suspected both goddesses of constantly trying to tip it over. 

But at least for the moment luck had been on her side. She could have easily been burnt, petrified, or disintegrated from the spells flying like snowflakes in a blizzard, and if she’d fallen a different way she could have broken a limb or something worse. As it was, the only gash that really hurt was a large scrape on her left hand. 

She stared at it, trying to decide if it was worth the spell. She settled for gently cleaning it with some water; she’d heal it later tonight if she remained out of danger. She brushed off as much dust as she could from everywhere else; it stung the other scrapes and scratches on her limbs until it settled to the floor.

She remembered something that she had wanted to examine more closely. She shuffled closer to the door. The barred window allowed for a chink of light to pass through. She held up the underside of her right arm in the light for a closer look. 

Her eyes hadn’t been playing tricks on her, then. Four inches long and starting at her wrist was a thin white scar, breaking the usual pattern of pale skin and freckles. It was neat and precise; it had to have been the work of a surgical knife. 

She tried to think back to when she and her five companions were ambushed in camp, taken from the dead of night to the darkness of Irenicus’s underground laboratory. She’d tried keeping up the others’ morale and measuring the days by Irenicus’s cycles of work, but the effort was doomed from the start. 

Irenicus had a purpose in mind for each of them, and had coldly dealt each fate. Two were drugged and imprisoned. Two were killed: one in the ambush, the other on Irenicus’s operating table. Lidia suspected that Khalid had been used to test unspeakable methodologies, which Irenicus had then refined upon Imoen.

And Imoen...there hadn’t been enough time to understand what had happened to her. From what Lidia could gather, she had been tortured; she only hinted at how or why. Normally, her friend was cheerful and irrepressible, the self-designated Morale Officer on their long campaigns. But during their escape through the lab, Imoen was either drifting back to some atrocity visited upon her or fighting an overwhelming terror.

Lidia herself had been kept in a drug- or magic-induced haze most of the time. Still, right before every experiment, right before Irenicus gave her another round of whatever cloud he’d cast over her mind, she’d been awake and alert. Sometimes, as she waited for him to finish preparing for the next surgery, she’d glance over to the tray of little tools he used. She could picture them now -- carefully polished, gleaming steel with white bone handles. 

It was a game she’d played with herself: anytime she could think clearly, she had plotted a possible escape. She considered what door to use, which route to take, which improvised weapon to wield first. For example, if Irenicus was ever careless in tightening the leather straps on his wooden operating table, she had picked one of his knives to take when his back was turned. They could effortlessly slice through limbs.

Unfortunately for her, Irenicus was never careless. The scar was proof of that. It was the only sign a cut had been made, with no sign of infection or irregularities in the skin around it. And it was only the second one she’d found; there was a shorter but similar one under the base of her left ear. Why he made them, and what he hoped to accomplish, was still a mystery. 

* * *

She turned her attention back towards her open pack. She put everything away, with one difference: she rolled up the spell scrolls and wrapped the leftover strips of cloth around them, concealing them in a hidden pocket inside her pack. Once that was done, she waited, sitting on the empty floor. The light wasn’t enough to write or draw by; her journal would have to wait. 

After what seemed like an age, the door finally opened. A guard, wearing the same helmet and livery but with a different voice, called to her. “Ma’am. Come with me.” 

Lidia took her pack, got to her feet, and followed her out of her cell. 

  
  
  



	3. Chapter 3

The guard walked her down to the left, towards the lone door. She opened it and gestured for Lidia to come in. She took the pack from Lidia’s hand, followed her in, and stood to one side. 

The room was bare wood much like the holding cell, except for three polished wooden stools, a small glass-paned window, and a plain but sturdy cabinet. On the opposite side of the room was a second door. The light streaming in from the window was still bright, without the tired look of a late afternoon. Lidia guessed that she’d been held for only an hour or two at most. Two stools sat on the right side of the door, and one on the left. The guard guided her to the left seat. Lidia sat down and straightened her back, turning to the door. 

Two others came in. The uniform they both wore was like those of the guards, but she noticed now that their livery was trimmed in silver. They sat down in the chair opposite to her. She recognized one as the keen-eyed superior officer she’d met in the Promenade, and she guessed that the other one had a similar rank. The other officer seemed more amiable than anything else -- if not for his uniform, she could have mistaken him for a content, middle-aged merchant, not a soldier. Still, he had a sharpness in his eye that belied his other features. 

One more followed them; this one was a thin man, probably a clerk, who from his darting eyes and jerkish movements seemed to be a bundle of live nerves. He held a thin stylus and a writing board, and kept his distance from Lidia as he went around the back of the two guards and stood at the ready. 

The guard closed the door behind them, and the keen-eyed officer spoke first. As soon as his mouth moved, the clerk started writing.

“I’m Lieutenant Zoar, and this is Lieutenant Aegisfield. On behalf of the Council of Six, we oversee the City Guard in the Promenade and the River District. We understand that you may know something about the magical incident in the Promenade.” 

“I didn’t get a close look, but I’ll tell you whatever I know about it,” she replied. 

“Good to hear. What is your name?” 

“Lidia.” 

Zoar waited a moment, then answered, “Just Lidia?” 

She weighed the question, and wondered what effect the answer would have. She decided it didn’t matter. “Some know me as Gorion’s Ward, but otherwise, yes.” 

She watched them closely, but no reaction flitted across either of their faces. Zoar continued, “Lidia, where do you come from?”

“Most recently, Baldur’s Gate.”

A silence passed between the three of them, which she found foreboding: her former city and Athkatla had been close to war only six months ago. Zoar finally said, “You’d better start with how you ended up in this fix.”

* * *

She began:

“I lived and worked in Baldur’s Gate over last fall and winter, investigating for the dukes and the Flaming Fist. I was leaving the city and heading north, when my group and I were ambushed as we slept. That was...” She paused for a moment. “What day is it?” 

“Tarsakh 10.” 

She turned to one side, lost in thought for a moment. “That was over four tendays ago,” she said, almost to herself. “That man the wizards took -- he held us captive. We just got free.” 

Aegisfield said, “How did you escape him?”

“My friend Imoen got my friends and me out of our cages. We made his way through some sort of laboratory until we found the tunnel to the Promenade. We had no idea we were in Athkatla until we surfaced.”

Zoar raised a hand, and Lidia fell silent. He said, “Tell us about what you know leading up to the explosion.”

* * *

She thought back, then picked the most likely point of interest for them. “There were five of us going down a tunnel. We could see the light coming out the other end -- we were close. Several people in hoods were running past us, both coming and going. There was some kind of fight going on outside. We had no idea where we were. All we wanted to do was get out and regroup somewhere far away.

“We slipped out just in time. An explosion covered the entrance of the tunnel. I didn’t get a chance to look, but I think the entrance was at the second or third level in the Promenade. But Irenicus was there, almost as if he were waiting for us. He told us...” A sudden swell of anger rose in her chest. She calmed herself with a cleansing breath. “He’d have recaptured us if we’d stayed. I was ready to run. The others ran. Imoen preferred to go down fighting. She cast a Magic Missile or two at him, when those wizards in robes showed up. The spells started flying everywhere. One of them landed in the rocks near my feet. I lost my footing and fell to the bottom of the rubble pile. That’s where the guards found me.” 

“So you don’t know who blew up the Promenade?” 

“I didn’t see who cast the exact spell,” she said, “but Irenicus had to have done it. I swear, we were only trying to escape from him. I’ve seen some of what he did. He’s powerful enough to destroy anything in his way. Imoen isn’t. She only had a few spells left, nothing that could have wrecked the Promenade like that.” 

* * *

This time, the two men glanced at each other. Zoar asked, “Did the dukes of Baldur’s Gate send you to Athkatla?”

“No, they didn’t.” 

“How close was your association with the Flaming Fist?” 

“I did some work for them, but I didn’t wear the uniform or go to the parties. I tend to be more freelance, so to speak.”

He glared at her. “One of those gods-damned adventurers. I might have known.” 

Aegisfield cut in, “Good thing the Cowled Wizards actually have an archmage in custody. Otherwise your story would seem like something of a yarn, and no mistake.”

She said nothing. 

Zoar asked, “What purpose could this wizard possibly have for you?” He drew out the last word incredulously, as though she was clearly not worth an archmage’s time. “No doubt it was for something foul.” 

“No doubt it was,” she said, echoing him. She had a guess but decided against sharing it here. “What his purpose was, I don’t know. He didn’t bother telling me.” 

* * *

They questioned her for a while longer, making her recount the last push to the Promenade several times and sometimes making her retell the story out of order. 

After another half hour or so, Aegisfield finally pushed his stool back. He called the clerk over and glanced at his notes, then said, “All right. You’ve been a great help. There’s going to be a number of people wanting answers, and now we might have something to tell them.” He pushed his chair back and got up, and Zoar followed suit. The nearby guard returned Lidia’s pack to her, then left. 

“Excuse me,” Lidia said. The lieutenants paused as they turned to leave. “Could you spare a few more moments?” 

“I suppose that’s fair,” Aegisfield said, turning back around towards Lidia. “Keep it short and I can do that.” 

Zoar gave a curt nod and left the room.

Lidia straightened up on the seat. “Those wizards arrested both of them, didn’t they?” she said.

Aegisfield folded his arms. “From what I understand. Why?” 

“Is there any chance they would release Imoen?”

His expression darkened. “A mage is a mage, and Amnish law does not allow magic-users to go unchecked. Better off banning them altogether, in my opinion. You saw what happened with a few stray spells. At least a dozen dead, and an entire section of the Promenade wiped out.” 

“She wasn’t responsible.” 

“It doesn’t matter. We can’t wait to sort out who did what while some lunatic is hurling fireballs.” 

Lidia shut her eyes for a moment. “Can’t she account for herself?”

No answer.

“Is there any way I could see her, at least?” 

He shook his head. “There’s little you can do now. The Cowled Wizards take who they take. Nobody knows where. Shady stuff, but the good they do outweighs it. That’s probably not much comfort to you, but if it was a mistake somehow, they’ll sort it out. My only advice is, don’t wander far in case they do.”

Clearly this was outside his control, Lidia thought. Or anyone’s, from the sound of it. 

* * *

Aegisfield continued, “I feel I should ask: did you have a trade before you became an adventurer?” 

“Not really,” Lidia said. “I had no other choice.”

“I understand. Straitened circumstances can force anyone into a life of aimless wandering. You seem like a good kid. I’d hate to see you end up with the wrong crowd, if you get my drift.”

“I’ll stay out of trouble.” She doubted she would, but she’d always given it her best shot. 

“Now I’ll admit, you seem luckier and more capable than most. But I’ve seen it too many times -- some young person with no family thinks they can hold a sword, they put on a Shadow Thief uniform, and I end up having to clean their corpse off the street a tenday later. I hope you can find a legitimate profession, and soon.”

He opened the door, stopping to pull her shortsword from one of the cabinets. As she approached, he placed the sword in its scabbard into her hand, and her pack in the other. “In the meantime, you’re free to go. The exit’s down the hall and to your right. You didn’t get the kind of welcome I’d want, but hopefully Athkatla treats you better from here on out. Stay safe.”

“Thank you,” Lidia said. She put the sword on her belt and the pack on her back, went out the door, and found herself on the street. 


	4. Chapter 4

The door shut behind Lidia, with a skin-crawling sound of metal on wood as it was bolted.

As she looked out towards the street, she had no idea where she was. She guessed that she was along a main road, for the street in front of her was wide enough to let ten people walk abreast. The people on the street were coming and going in equal measure. Many of them were human, though she spotted an occasional halfling here and there, adeptly weaving their way underfoot. Every so often, the crowd parted to let a mule or a donkey through -- most of the time, the animals and their masters were heading to the south, bearing carefully wrapped burdens. Towards the Promenade, maybe? They were all passing a tightly packed line of salt-weathered terracotta buildings, grooved and pitted and exposing the brick underneath. Those marks, and a series of worn signs, were the only identifying marks from one establishment to the next. 

A small boy, no more than seven years old, lingered nearby as he traced the outlines of the stones with a stick. He spotted her, dropped his stick and straightened up. His dark eyes seemed to closely examine her face.

“You lost, ma’am?” he asked. 

“I might be,” she said. “Where does this street go?” 

“If you give me two red inks, I’ll tell ye.” 

“Red inks?” 

“They’re coppers,” he said. “Have ye got them?”

Lidia was both taken aback and amused by the boy’s boldness, but she countered, “I’ll give you three if you answer two questions for me.” She counted out three copper coins in her hand, examined them to make sure they had the right symbol, and showed them to him. 

They stared at each other a moment, until the boy said, “You have to say if that be your final offer.” 

“All right,” Lidia said. “That’s my final offer. Do we have a deal?” 

“Deal,” he said, his small hand clamping over the coins as soon as he’d spoken. “What’s yer questions?”

“Which way to the Bridge?”

The boy pointed to her right, seemingly around a bend that joined a larger street. “Up that way, and it goes towards the Coronet. The other way’s nothing.”

“What’s the Coronet?”

“It’s an inn. Go over the bridge and down the road, and you’ll see it on your left.”

As soon as he finished talking, he ran off, even before Lidia could thank him.

* * *

Lidia turned to her right. From there the street opened up to the river. The air smelled faintly like salt as she came closer, until she found herself at the foot of a great grey bridge. It spanned over a hundred feet across the Alandor River, and stood tall enough to let most small craft underneath. She wondered how far down the giant, flawlessly smooth concrete piers went. The murky brown water gently lapped at their bases; the first spring thaw was already setting in, if the river ever froze to begin with.

Two guards stood on each side of the bridge, stopping everyone who approached and collecting copper coins into a hidden sack. With the number of people crossing back and forth, she guessed, they’d need an extradimensional treasury of some kind to store it all. 

She stood on the edge of the pier and got her bearings. Along the sparse and jagged teeth of the wooden docks at the river’s edge, boats were lazily floating down the river and occasionally mooring. The buildings at the other bank were wooden and weathered, though the concrete underneath them was nearly as pristine as the bridge itself. These buildings were all backed by a wall of the same terracotta that was used here, with only a few gates to allow further entrance into the city. The closest gate was on the other side of the bridge. 

Near that gate was a gigantic sphere, beaten gray metal except where it shimmered gold in the afternoon sun. It was the same height as the wall and seemed to be built right into it. She wondered what the sphere was used for. Though the wall fit around it perfectly, it still looked out of place, as though some capricious god had set it there on a whim. The location seemed extremely inconvenient; it actually blocked part of the street leading to the bridge, though the curve rose over the street high enough to let the usual amounts of traffic through. It glinted and sparkled, and she thought she could detect an air of unreality and unearthliness about it. It didn’t look like it belonged in this particular corner of reality, in any case. 

Lidia shivered. The breeze off the river was cold, and though the weather was milder here than in the north, winter was only beginning to relinquish its grip. This called her attention to the most pressing thing: she was free for now, but she wouldn’t be safe until she found some shelter. She hoped the others hadn’t gone far. She didn’t want to form any plans yet without them, especially since some of them seemed to know this place much better than she did.

Still, from what she could see so far, Athkatla wasn’t as alien as she thought it might have been. The people spoke Common with something of an accent, she’d noticed, but not so much that she had to strain to understand it. For all their constant headbutting over trade contracts and levies, Athkatla and Baldur’s Gate seemed more alike than anyone cared to admit. And as she didn’t know this place, it also didn’t know her, and she took some comfort in being anonymous. 

* * *

Her instincts caught it first. She kept her stance relaxed, but turned towards where she thought she’d seen someone move closer. Her hand went to a hidden dagger in her belt.

A man with a keen, appraising eye was approaching her. There was nothing extraordinary otherwise about him: tawny hooded coat, brown trousers, dark hair and eyes. He gave a brief, sweeping bow, showing off the white shock of hair that crowned his head.

“Coo! You be the one I be looking for, if I not be mistaken. Let's have a look at ye. Lidia be your name, aye?”

She said nothing. 

“That wizard worked ye over, didn’t he? Need to jog your memory?”

Still nothing.

“So you’re not Gorion’s Ward? The Hero of Baldur’s Gate? The one that infallible sources of information told me I was to find?” 

She sized him up. He had a small dagger at his side, but it seemed to only function as an extra bit of insurance. He held himself casually, not in a way that told her of any mischief. 

“I am she,” Lidia finally said. “But surely your sources have better things to do than keep tabs on me.” 

“See, they--” He slapped his palm to his forehead. “I ought to begin at the beginnin’, aye?” 

* * *

He extended a gloved hand, and she shook it. In spite of herself, his easygoing manner was disarming.

The man said, “My name be Gaelan Bayle. Ye needn't stretch your brain thinkin', I be sure it's a name ye haven't heard.”

“Well met, Gaelan. What do you need from me?” 

He said, “Well, I don't rightly know. You might be wantin’ information about a young lass arrested by the wizards on your arrival here, aye?”

“Do you know where they took her?”

Gaelan looked from side to side. With one hand, he guided her to the side of an old wooden shack nearby, and lowered his voice.

“I knows very little, meself. That has to be bought from someone who knows, or can be findin’ out. And not just anyone knows -- only those with enough power to cross the Cowled Wizards have a chance. Your coin would be as good as any other, but…we've heard of ye here, enough to know your kind isn't for associatin’ with mine." 

"My 'kind'?" Her brow furrowed.

“You be some knightly type, aren't ye? Though ye seem an escaped jailbird, to tell ye the truth." 

Lidia rubbed the stubble on the back of her head. “I left my shining armor and noble steed at home today.” 

“Smart money’s on the watchful eye for you,” Gaelan said, tapping the side of his nose. “You be of too high renown to ignore ye, but it’ll be mighty work to convince me friends you can deal. But, for findin’ lost friends and enemies--would a deal be something ye might like?" he said.

Concerned for Imoen’s safety, Lidia’s first thought was to accept his offer right away. She rejected the idea as soon as she had it. For better or worse she was part of a group, whether they were present or not. Saying yes for on their behalf would be unwise, especially since she had no idea whether he was pulling some kind of scam. But she thought not. Even without trying to discover Gaelan’s intent, he seemed to really think she was important enough for this kind of offer.

“I’d need to know more, first,” she said.

He considered that for a long moment. “Tell you what. How's about you remember Gaelan Bayle givin’ you a friendly welcome to the City of Coin, and in exchange leave me friends well alone. If you be findin' that to your taste, then maybe I can sell them on ye." 

"Who are your friends?” 

“Not the kind to be speaking the name here,” he said. “Remember what I says and all shall be well.”

“Thank you.” She wasn’t sure what there was to be thankful for, but she still wanted to be polite if she could help it.

He bowed low one more time. "Just being neighborly. You want some more proof that me word is good? There’s a Kara-Turan, a Rashemi, and a half-elf who passed by this way a few hours ago. Your other friends, aye? Last I saw, they were heading into the Copper Coronet. I believe Brus gave ye good directions already. Fare ye well, then. Give me greetings to Lehtinan if ye happens by 'im.” 

He turned to go, but suddenly flipped her a coin. It glinted as it hurtled through the air, and she easily caught it. Before she could thank him, he slipped around a corner and seemed to disappear as quickly as he'd come. 

* * *

She paid the coin to the guard at the bridge, who gave her a sharp nod. “Haven’t seen your face here,” he said. “Don’t stop if you can, don’t stop anyone else, and don’t draw your weapon. On your way, then.” 

Lidia agreed and walked down the massive bridge, finding a place among the flow of animals and people, her mind turning to where she ought to go next. She decided on the Coronet without giving it much thought. Her friends were there. If Gaelan had told her they were in the Hells, she would have gone without hesitation.

  
  
  
  
  
  



	5. Chapter 5

Lidia found the Copper Coronet with little difficulty, especially since it seemed to be the largest thing on this block. At least, the largest thing that was supposed to be there -- the sphere dwarfed everything else and was now stretching out its shadow as the day waned. The foot traffic dropped off as she went further north across the bridge, though there were signs that certain elements of the population were beginning to stir. Fewer carts and horses and laborers and tradesmen, more beggars and messengers and people in hoods and jacks of plate. 

She’d been expecting to descend into treacherous narrows, like the Lower City in Baldur’s Gate. Instead, Athkatla kept its streets wide open and clean, even as the upkeep of the buildings and the street pavers deteriorated as she went further north. In the bright sunlight, everything seemed almost picturesque rather than dreary. The smell of waste was more overpowering here than across the river, but it wasn’t enough to turn her stomach. She’d been through worse.

As for the Coronet itself, someone seemed to have started building this place and forgotten to tell the workers when to stop. The heart of it was a low-lying structure made from the same pitted terracotta walls and clay-tiled roofs as the others nearby. The entrance to the inn itself was marked with a hanging sign depicting, in faded paint, a brown crown outside a sturdy wooden door. Multiple additions, all of which looked only slightly newer, seemed to be added onto the ground floor as an afterthought. And, like a shell growing around some creature, a rickety-looking wooden stairway dominated the front of the place, winding upwards and around. The stairs led to what seemed to be another neighborhood altogether, built atop this one.

Her friends wouldn’t find themselves, she thought, and she went across the street and opened the wooden door. It was much heavier than she was expecting; it was several fingers thick and the battens on the inside were reinforced with iron. 

* * *

As it turned out, the Coronet was exactly the kind of place to which a suspicious stranger would direct her. The very air felt dingy. The varnish on the floors had worn off long ago, if it was ever there to begin with, and bits of dirt had settled in and melded itself with the wood. The tables and chairs were old and scratched, and the clouded glasses didn’t match. But to those more familiar with this part of town, all this was to be expected. “What is this, the Gem District?” was the proprietor Lethinan’s usual response to complaints, as Lidia later learned. 

Still, at the moment the place looked sleepy, if considerably lived-in. This afternoon, the shutters on the far wall were open, letting some light cross the motes of dust in the air. Thick smoke clung to the ceiling and dimmed the light from the embers in a long brazier which dominated the center of the taproom, gave off welcome heat, and lit countless pipes. Off the left wall was a ring of pillars and a tiled floor, marred with red-brown stains. A surly, hunched-over man lingered in a chair nearby, giving her a suspicious look. 

Lidia made her way cautiously through the room, giving as wide a berth as she could to the clumps of people around tables. The smell of harbor water, pipe-smoke, and old meat seemed to all mingle together the further back she went. Most of the people, many of whom wore the same jacks of iron with their hoods down, congregated around a small table that served as a bar. She kept her short sword at her side, and the dagger hidden but easily reachable, though she resisted the temptation to touch either one. It was always a fine line to walk, projecting the silent message of “not to be crossed” while avoiding the silent message of “apt to cross others.”

She was much more watchful than she would be under normal circumstances -- she was in an unfamiliar place, and she was exhausted. She kept her head up. If she hadn't, and she had been less tired, she would have noticed the dwarf's outstretched feet. 

She tripped over his short legs, stumbling forward. Everyone else moved out of the way. She fell to the floor, hitting the ground on her front. She turned over onto her back almost as soon as she’d recovered from the surprise. She wasn’t hurt, but some of the mud from the dwarf’s boots streaked onto her legs. 

A hush fell over the group of ne'er-do-wells around him. One or two of them burst into a laugh and a roar: "Oy, Bloodaxe! Wake up, come look at this chit 'ere."

People were packed closely here, so perhaps Lidia could be forgiven for the slip. But with a name like "Bloodaxe," she doubted that this particular dwarf was known for his forgiving mood. Luckily, he was fast asleep, probably stone drunk, under his massive grey beard and his helmet resting atop his face. 

She got to her feet and muttered some apologies, but relaxed a bit when no one gave her a second glance. The fact that she looked like a prison escapee, as Gaelan had pointed out, meant that she seemingly fit right in. She slipped through the crowd to the back, where a huge, balding, over-muscled bartender presided over a table, serving drinks poured from a wall of weather-stained barrels.

As she approached, the bartender turned aside to talk to a stout, bald man in an apron. She caught only snippets of conversation, but it sounded as though this man was the bartender’s boss. 

The man with the apron barked out orders to the bartender and two girls handing out drinks. He surveyed the room and muttered something to the bartender. Suddenly, he met Lidia’s gaze, then disappeared down a hallway in the back. In a moment, he returned with Jaheira, who left him behind the counter to resume his duties. 

Lidia picked up speed and met her friend in a back alcove of the bar, empty except for several ticks of straw along the wall. Lidia was tempted to sit down, but didn’t; she felt as though she could fall asleep on her feet. 

Jaheira was a half-elf, her hair sun-bleached and her skin tanned from countless hours outdoors. Out of everyone in Gorion’s Company, she was often the first to react and the first to find an old acquaintance in a new place. Though she didn’t look a day above thirty, she’d been adventuring since before Lidia was born.

She leaned in, her callused hand on Lidia’s shoulder, and kept her lightly accented voice low. “Thank the gods, you made it. We thought you had been taken, too.”

Lidia said, “The city guard did, but they let me go. We need to -- ”

Jaheira interrupted, “Not here. Come with me.” 

She took her to a hallway in the back with a series of plain wooden doors. They stopped in front of one that had an “H” scrawled on the front with a piece of charcoal. 

Jaheira pressed a key into Lidia’s hand. “Here. You and I have this room. The others will be next door if you need anything. Or ask for Bernard; he is a friend of mine and you can trust him. Otherwise, this place is not a friendly one; be wary of who you deal with. I have a meeting that cannot wait, but there will be time to talk later.” She started down the hall.

As Lidia kept fumbling with the key, Jaheira stopped and turned to her one last time on her way out. “Stay here and get some rest. You will need it.”

Lidia quickly shed the clothes she’d been wearing, replacing them with the oatmeal-colored undergarments, tunic, and pants that lay on the bed. The only piece of old clothing she kept was a dirtied gray vest that she laid upon a table; the rest went onto the dying fire and quickly were swallowed into ashes. She found a basin of water nearby and rinsed off her limbs and face. 

The water heightened her alertness, but not for long. The work of the past day would have taxed her body even if she hadn’t suffered weeks of misuse and ill treatment, and now, everything overtook her.

As soon as Lidia sat on the wide bed, she sank into it, comforted by the smell of straw in the mattress. Almost before she knew it, she’d curled up, not even bothering to draw the blanket over her, and fell asleep. 

* * *

  
_Yesterday_

The group was resting in Irenicus's library, a long, musty-smelling room with dozens of bookshelves. It was one of the few rooms in the lab which had no obvious sign of some dark deed. They’d encountered mangled remnants of preserved people in jars, a couple captive djinns, and a forge full of duergar, dark dwarves with hooded eyes. But here, there were only shelves and shelves of books, with loose pages scattered everywhere on the hard stone floor. The air here was much drier than the rest of the underground complex; Imoen guessed that Irenicus had cast a spell here to keep mildew from forming in the paper.

Up until now, Imoen had been constantly looking over her shoulder, glancing at shadows as if a predator hid in each one. Nevertheless, she had insisted on going through the shelves; she spent an hour quietly poring over the rare tomes the wizard kept and taking one or two for herself. She'd tucked away a few spell scrolls for later, and found some hidden potions. She finally sat down next to Lidia, who was sketching something in a book.

This book was completely empty, bound with undyed vellum, and had probably been awaiting Irenicus’s hand to copy something in. Imoen had picked it off a shelf and given it to Lidia while she and the others were setting up a makeshift camp. A replacement journal, and Lidia was grateful for it. Most of their other possessions were gone. 

As she piled her finds together, Imoen seemed visibly relaxed for the first time that day, and looked about the room, saying, "I've got to hand it to you, you sure have some kind of courage to sleep in this place. I would have run screaming a dozen times over if you weren't here."

Lidia looked up. "Nobody's seriously noticed that we're gone, and we needed time to recover. We had to take the chance."

Imoen shivered a bit and put her thin arms around her legs. "I'm just glad you and the others are here. I'm not up to this like you are."

"You give yourself too little credit. Anytime the group is in a scrape, you’re ready." 

Imoen shrugged. "Well, when people are in trouble, sure. Winthrop was good at teaching me how to stay out of a fix, but you remember what Gorion said, right?”

“‘Avoid trouble if you can, make it worth your while if you can’t.’”

Imoen stared off into the distance for a moment, as if she feared that their captor was somehow listening. "The guy that captured us... he knows about you. He said something about potential, something about great power." She shuddered. “Say we won't look back. I don't care if he can 'tap the power' or access whatever avatar stuff. We've gotta get away from all this death."

Lidia rubbed a soft, raised line below her ear. It still hurt. "I want answers and some justice. But it's not the time to try for either. We're going to get out of here. And we're not looking back."

"Means a lot to hear you say that. I can't stand all these shadows."

Lidia leaned over and picked up a small jar of oil. She opened the jar, added its contents to the lantern, and soon the room blazed with a soft, warm light. "That feel better?" she asked. 

Imoen nodded.

Lidia closed the book. "Listen, Im."

"Shoot." 

"I doubt our captor is going to let us just walk. When we start moving again, if something goes wrong, I want you to run. Don't stop until you find someplace safe."

"Like hells I will! I didn't spend all that time training in magic for nothing."

"I know. But this is all on me. If something happens to you...” Lidia could’t finish that sentence, and leaned forward. “Promise me. Please."

“All right, all right. But...”

Lidia recognized the look on Imoen’s face. Usually, after she got that look, she’d then mutter that Lidia was “bossy.” The fact that Lidia was a year or two younger than her, as well as the de facto leader of the group, probably had something to do with it. 

But that look was fleeting, and Imoen gave a wan smile instead. “Bird, it’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me.” 


	6. Chapter 6

Lidia heard a rustle, and immediately started awake. For a moment, she thought she was back in her cell in Irenicus’s lab, and that he was in the corner, preparing some fresh torment for her. She could have sworn that he heard his voice.

But she felt the mattress beneath her back, and could see the dim light of the early morning through the thin sheets of animal horn covering the window. She rubbed her eyes with her hand, shivered, and scampered under the blanket, pulling it up and around her as she sat up on the bed.

“The time is six o’clock in the morning, if you are curious,” Jaheira said. She turned away from where she’d been sitting and meditating near the light, and lit a lantern on a nearby table. 

“Did I miss anything?"

“No. I judged that letting you rest was the most important thing. I did speak to Bernard, though. He is willing to put the four of us up here, so we have some time to choose our course.”

“Thank you.”

“Gorion would have haunted me for the rest of my days if I had left you here.” Jaheira seemed to be trying for lightness, but only half-heartedly. “Besides, escape would not have been possible without you.”

“You wouldn’t have been captured if it weren’t for me.”

“Ach, I am not arguing this,” Jaheira said with a wave of her hand. “Will you sleep more, or are you ready to start the day?”

* * *

After Lidia got up, got dressed, and had some breakfast, Jaheira said, “There is something we must do.”

“What is it?”

“From what I understand, finding Imoen’s whereabouts will be difficult, if not impossible.”

Lidia gave her a questioning look, but Jaheira said, “Bernard told me. Many in the city have already heard of it.”

“Do the Harpers know where the Wizards took her?”

“They do not. At least, not yet. They have simply never looked into it,” she said. “They will begin, if I bring you to their stronghold for questioning.”

“What do they want from me?”

“They refused to say. But I know the Harpers here -- one of them was my mentor. If it were not important to the balance, they would not have asked. When shall we pay them a visit?”

“Nothing else is going on,” Lidia said. “Let’s go today.”

* * *

Lidia checked over her weapons, as she did every morning, and noticed something new by her things. Minsc had dropped off something she’d given him for safekeeping.

Secured in a harness was Sarevok’s black blade, her sole trophy as the Hero of Baldur’s Gate. She had taken the sword from his empty suit of armor after Sarevok had died, after his body had turned to dust as his spirit fled.

This was a good sword, but she was hesitant to use it. Not because she couldn’t -- its length and weight weren’t a problem, and in fact in many ways were an advantage. It was well-made, well-balanced, and it even had a hook in the blade just above the crossguard. She was fairly certain the sword had beneficial magic of its own. Imoen had assured her several times that it held no curse. But any thought of wielding it was immediately put aside whenever she saw the black hilt.

It had only one adornment. In the pommel was wrought a small relief: a grinning black skull surrounded by red teardrops, its eyes red jewels and seemingly lit by its own inner flame. It was the symbol of Bhaal, the Lord of Murder. Every tale about this god described the sheer depths of his evil and sadism, and the horrifying lengths his cultists went to advance his cause. Bhaal's was the kind of evil that Lidia would have been called to oppose at every turn, if he were not already dead. 

She put the greatsword aside. If she were ever lucky enough to settle down, it’d be an impressive conversation piece for the wall. She reached for the few other weapons she had. She tucked a dagger into her belt, and tightened the pommel on her shortsword, for it had come a bit loose while the guards were handling it. She thought for a long moment about whether armor was really necessary now, since from the sound of it they would be among friends. 

Better to have it and not use it, she thought. She tightened the joints on the breastplate as best she could over her clothes. 

* * *

As they were making the final preparations to leave, Lidia noticed something new by Jaheira’s things: a strange-looking staff. There was a faint glimmer of magic about the tip, and the wood was elegantly reinforced with inlaid metal.

“That’s nice,” Lidia said, pointing it out. “Where did it come from?"

“Oh, that,” Jaheira said. “The Harpers asked me to do a favor for them as a show of good faith.”

“Already?” Lidia asked.

“Perhaps you lost track of time, but I and others have not. We have been in Athkatla over a month — it may very well be that some knew we were here before we ourselves did.”

Lidia said, “What about the staff, then? What favor did you do?”

Jaheira went over to the staff, took it, and held it up. The tip transformed into a spear before their eyes. “I encountered a certain Zhentish acquaintance of ours who no longer needs it.” 

* * *

They left the Coronet shortly afterwards. They crossed through the River District until they came to a wall with a wide iron gate, much like the one that bound the River District on the south.

Two guards stood on either side. Their plate armor was intricately etched with scrolls across the breast, and they carried long polearms that looked a lot like guisarmes: one side of the tip had a long, gleaming hook, while the other was spiked with a simple wand.

As Lidia and Jaheira approached on the left side, the guard nearest them called out: “Halt, and state your business.”

“Errands,” Jaheira said, and tossed the guard a silver coin.

He caught it. “On your way, then. Cause no trouble."

When they passed through the gate, they seemed to step into a different city altogether. Lidia had heard rumors that Athkatla was paved with gold and built up with gems, and she now understood why the rumors had come about. The street in front of her was a cacophony of carved reliefs, ornate pillars, and bands of gold glittering in the early morning sun. Several points on this street alone had crews of workers carving, polishing, sculpting, and laying great bricks of marble and granite. One building from this block all by itself would have been a landmark and the talk of the neighborhood, but each structure seemed to be trying to outdo the others around them.

The number of feet and wheels on the clean, well-laid streets was only beginning to grow, but many of those that passed them were guards going to their posts or messengers running errands. Every so often, a lavishly decorated coach or palanquin passed by, accompanied by a band of guards and announced by a runner. 

Lidia kept one eye on the road ahead, and another on the faces that streamed past them. She hoped against hope that one would be familiar to her. But after some time, she noticed that Jaheira seemed pensive, and guessed at the reason. “Are you all right? If there’s anything I can do -- “

“There is nothing,” she said sharply. “What else have we to do but set to work?”

Lidia focused again on where she and Jaheira were traveling. It seemed as though they would be here for a while, so she would get to know Athkatla well, for better or for worse. It wasn’t too early to learn. 

* * *

They came to a corner where a confusing array of signs kept watch over the crossroads. Jaheira studied the signpost for a moment. “Well, this entire city is before us. What course shall we take?"

Lidia was about to comment that Jaheira seemed to know the way, but thought better of it. "Are you asking for a geographical or moral answer?"

"Moral, most definitely. I must watch the overall balance of things, and you may figure largely in the tipping. It is because of...what you are.”

“Right,” Lidia replied. “Can’t let me forget. At least there’s no one after my head yet.”

“That will not last. Your deeds have a way of impacting those around you. Others like me have to deal with the outcome.” She whispered, “I am Harper, you know this. I should hate for us to end up on opposite sides of a coin."

"What is it you fear? You’ve spoken up about the group doing too much for others."

"All the more reason to be careful.” Jaheira said. “You know what happens to those who twist noble goals to self-serving ends."

Lidia was ready to protest, but her friend continued: “I have no doubt that you mean well. But what should be the best too often becomes the worst. The direst evil can take root in perverted virtue. The more good deeds you do, the more I worry that you might be blinded by them."

"Can’t you help me see the right course?"

"You are not a child. You are capable of seeing for yourself. But if you cannot, and you leave me no other choice…"

There was no need to say anything else. They both knew where this line of thought went.

Jaheira continued, "Few will ever walk your path, and I cannot walk it for you. But my promise to Gorion still stands. I will guide you for as long as you will have me."

* * *

They passed through one more gate. On the other side was a line of abandoned temples. They turned left and passed by several of them until Jaheira stopped in front of one. It had no symbol or adornment, but there were still traces of rust where metal letters had shown the building’s name. To a keen eye, the outlines of those letters still read: “House of the Guiding Lady.”

“This is the place,” Jaheira said.

Lidia stared up at the tall, stucco-covered walls, and whispered, “This whole building? I thought -- ” She remembered just in time to not say the name out loud. “I thought they were supposed to be covert.”

Jaheira said, “I know. Someone failed when even you can see it. Come on.”

She went up to the guard at the door, whispered something into his ear, and he let both of them pass. 


	7. Chapter 7

The doors opened to a large room filled with golden light, giving the appearance of warmth and luxury to everything it touched. The light came from eight round braziers and runes upon the walls, lit by their own inner fire. The walkway down the foyer had elvish letters inscribed upon the flagstones, and several runes glowed in brass sigils upon the walls. Adorning the center of the floor was a large black disk with seven stars. These were laid out in front of a statue of a long-limbed woman, the moon goddess Selûne, who looked down upon the entire gathering with a serene gaze and open arms.

A few people milled about the hall, but they kept their distance. They all wore a green beaded harp-shaped amulet on their tunics and cloaks. Lidia and Jaheira were finally approached by a man in plate armor with a large sword at his side. He wore a cloak with a massive feathered collar that covered his shoulders, which was also clasped with the same beaded amulet.

"Jaheira, my dear, it is good to see you!" he said. He shook Jaheira’s hand; the cheerfulness in his voice was absent from his eyes.

She let go first. "Your welcome is forced; you know I am here at the bidding of the Herald,” she said. She folded her arms. “Why have you come to greet me? This is too important to waste time on you."

"Ah, I know well the importance of this. It was I that called you."

“You?” She glared at him. "You are no Herald! What is going on here? Where is Meronia or Dermin?"

"We are all at work, as you should know. This area lacks a Herald currently, and I seek to establish one. You will help, by doing what is right. You know what is right, don't you?" He gave her an expecting look, as though he knew what her answer would be.

Jaheira shook her head forcefully, then turned aside from him. "I know you are an ambitious fool. You cannot be sanctioned to do this. Even this gaudy base is against our usual restraint. The position of Herald requires…"

He spoke up. "It requires the will to establish the position. The High Heralds will judge if it is deserved. Really, Jaheira, this is a matter aside."

"Fine, set about with your questions so I can get on with my job as well."

"Very good. You serve the greater cause that we all do.”

The look on Jaheira’s face was still far from friendly. 

* * *

He called together the nearby Harpers, four in all. One of them, a half-elf in long blue robes, pulled out a tablet, a piece of paper, and a pen. He moved to Galvarey’s side, standing poised and solemn like a warrior at the ready, waiting for the proceedings to begin. Jaheira stood off to the side, where the other Harpers watched, while Galvarey directed Lidia to stand in the middle of the circle of runes. He took his seat in front of the statue of Selûne, called the meeting to order and read the minutes from the last session. He barely acknowledged Lidia was there the whole time, so all that she could do was wait. 

Lidia sized up Galvarey as he began the meeting. He was a good speaker and had clearly earned command in some way, probably through force of arms. But he struck her as imperious, and if Jaheira didn’t trust him, she wasn’t inclined to, either. She had no idea why she was here, but she now had a chance to glean a bit of information about him for herself.

He seemed fully committed to boring everyone in the room with a series of bombastic speeches; this would be easy. Lidia shut her eyes and lowered her head, cleared her mind, and focused on him.

An almost imperceptible shiver ran down her left arm. Not a promising sign, but not strong enough to be useful. The room fell silent.

She looked up. All eyes were on her. Galvarey’s were baleful.

She met his gaze in quiet defiance. Still, she’d go along with what he wanted, for now. 

He moved to begin Lidia’s interrogation, and the rest of the group assented. His voice resumed the pleasant tone he’d used with Jaheira. “Lidia, do you know why you are here?"

Lidia glanced to Jaheira. She remained still, and so Lidia went with her first guess. "The massive crater in the Promenade?"

"In a manner of speaking. Things like that seem to surround you at every turn, certainly. That is why you are here." He looked down over to his side, and cleared his throat. Immediately, the Harper in the robes started scribbling.

Galvarey continued, "Let me ask you a few things straight away. Nothing too intrusive, I assure you. What are your earliest memories? Are they happy ones?"

Lidia briefly shut her eyes as she thought back. 

* * *

She remembered being small, and sitting by the fountain, and the raven’s reflection in the water, and the raised voices in the other room, their sound floating out to the day as they faded. As for the rest, she wasn’t sure if it was a memory or only part of a bad dream. “I remember being outside in the Candlekeep gardens. My stepfather Gorion met with the Keeper of the Tomes and convinced him to let us stay in Candlekeep.”

"Where you could hide away from your past. I remember Gorion -- the idealist." Galvarey snorted, and Jaheira shot a glare in his direction. He didn’t return it. "I was with those who thought it was a mistake. Ah, I will clarify later."

Lidia bristled. "Clarify now,” she said. “What was a mistake?"

Galvarey’s voice tightened. "Speak when you’re spoken to." He cleared his throat. "Now, then. We know of your deeds in Baldur’s Gate, especially those concerning the would-be tyrant Sarevok. Do you believe his death was…justified?"

Lidia said, "That’s a loaded question -- "

"Answer."

“He forced my hand. If I could have avoided killing him, I would have.”

Galvarey considered this. “You are well-practiced in fine-sounding excuses," he said. "A creature such as you would reach for anything to justify violence.”

Jaheira cut in, “You are twisting her words, Galvarey. That is not what she meant.”

“It is my duty and mine alone to judge, regardless of how you feel about it,” he said, dismissing her with a wave of her hand.

“I know her! I have traveled with her for over a year, now. If you really wished to judge, then call on me as a witness. She has humored this farce, though you’ve tried to make this situation as difficult for her as possible.”

Galvarey stared at Jaheira. "She is born of evil. I am amazed that you try to understand her thoughts -- deception is woven into her very being. Could you understand an illithid, or a beholder?” He gestured with his hand. “This Lidia is like one of these."

Lidia said, "Perhaps if you looked, you would see a human being, no better and no worse than you.” She turned to the other Harpers nearby. “I wonder whether any of you would agree.”

“A bald-faced attempt to play on our sympathies,” Galvarey said. “This antagonism is not helping your case.”

Jaheira said, "You were to see Lidia as she is, not as you expected her to be. I was to bring her here so --"

"You were to bring her here so that we might have her here, nothing more.”

Jaheira threw up her hands. "You did not discuss this with me!"

"Extraneous information would have endangered the mission,” Galvarey said. “As Harpers we -- "

"As Harpers we respect others!" Jaheira shouted, striding forward.

Galvarey rose from his seat, and the other Harpers began to stir, too. "We have a greater duty to maintain the balance. How can you, as a Harper, as a _druid_ , sanction her freedom? What will she do to the balance?"

"And what if she will restore it? What if her intent is good?" Jaheira stepped forward.

He shook his head. "It is simply not worth the risk. No, there is no choice in the matter. Lidia, you are to be...confined."

“I’ve already been in two jail cells this tenday,” Lidia said. “You’re not going to make it three.” 

I mean the spell ‘Imprisonment,’ to contain the chaos you might sow, intentionally or not,” Galvarey said. “It is a humane solution: one incantation, you will be sealed away in a small container several leagues beneath the earth. There, you shall be in suspended animation for the rest of time. Quite peaceful."

Lidia’s hand went for the hilt of her sword. Thank the gods Galvarey hadn’t confiscated it. “You’ll have to take me alive, first.” 

The other Harpers nervously glanced at each other, but Galvarey was unmoved. "You have no voice here and little choice in the matter. Certainly you can fight, but there are six Harpers to contend with. The odds are quite clearly-- "

"Nay, Galvarey, there is but you and your four lackeys." Jaheira went to Lidia’s side. She raised her staff into a guard, and in a moment the point of a spear appeared on its tip.

"You have made a mistake. With her imprisonment I could get sponsored as Herald! But now you fight the Harpers with this monster!" He motioned with his hand, and the other four Harpers drew their weapons.

Lidia drew her sword.

Jaheira said, "Harpers may interfere, but it is for the greater good, not this! I don't know you!"


	8. Chapter 8

Galvarey said, “Kill the traitor. Hold the other one.”

A woman wearing half-plate and a male halfling moved towards Jaheira, drawing their weapons.

Lidia pivoted in front of them, holding her sword in a guard. “Don’t even think about it.” 

“We outnumber you. Our mages are preparing their spells. It’s over,” the woman said, drawing her scimitar.

Out of the corner of her eye, Lidia saw that Galvarey remained still, standing and waiting. “Galvarey doesn’t have the courage to face us, so he’s content to throw your lives away,” Lidia said. 

“You’re mad. When he becomes High Herald, it’ll all be worth it.” 

Jaheira chanted behind her, “ _Praeses, alia, fero_!” She held up her holy symbol, a gold talisman. When she finished chanting, the outline of an oak leaf glowed upon it. 

Lidia leapt backwards. Large, ropy, green vines sprouted up beneath their opponents’ feet, then bound them to the ground. They slashed at the vines with their swords, but as soon as they cut one, a replacement sprang up and held them fast. 

The other two mages, still on the edge of the circle on the floor, were both enclosed by faint, shimmering globes. One of them was caught by the vines, but soon got his bearings. He began moving his hands in a complicated motion.

With a flick of her wrist, Lidia removed the pommel from her sword and threw it towards the mage’s head. It solidly connected, and he let out a loud curse, stumbling to the ground. As soon as his hand touched, it was caught in a vine. 

Jaheira moved in on the woman in plate and the halfling, standing at the edge of the field of vines. With one blow from her spear, she finished the woman off. Neither she nor Lidia could reach the halfling without getting entangled in the vines themselves. In any case, he was trapped. He could wait. 

The mage at Galvarey’s side finished chanting and pointed his finger in Jaheira’s direction. 

“Look out!” Lidia shouted, running towards him. 

A streak of orange light flashed across the room, catching Lidia on the right shoulder. 

The fireball had only bloomed to a fraction of its full size when it hit her. It still packed a wallop, nearly knocking Lidia off her feet. It punched through her armor, singed her shoulder and the right side of her neck, and finally burned itself out. Jaheira ran to her side, raising her spear. Galvarey moved forward, then abruptly stopped, only a pace out of Jaheira’s striking distance. 

Lidia recovered, pulling herself up again. Her shoulder throbbed as though a rock had hit it, and the heat was still working its way through her skin. 

The mage next to Galvarey went still. His fellow and the halfling on the opposite side of the room was still struggling to free himself from the vines, but the spell would soon fade. In a few moments, they’d be outnumbered again. 

Galvarey said, reaching for his sword, “Jaheira, I’m surprised. You would kill Harpers rather than admit -- ” 

Jaheira buried the tip of the spear into his throat. He slowly sank to his knees, grasping at the shaft.

She twisted the spear, then forcefully withdrew it. “You are no Harper.” 

For a few moments, clawed at the hole in his neck, the blood running down the front of his armor. His body stiffened, then collapsed to the floor. He died quickly. 

* * *

Lidia approached the mage, doing her best not to jostle her right side.

His face turned from shock to contempt. “What kind of mad creature are you?”

She raised her sword. “A left-handed one.” 

He grabbed a staff from behind the statue of Selûne. “Have at you!” 

The staff swung downwards with the find of force that could easily cave in a skull. Lidia turned out of its path. She stepped closer on his exposed side. He raised his staff, but was unable to bring the staff around in time. She landed a cut on the back of his thigh.

He stumbled to the ground, crying out in pain and letting go of his staff. 

Lidia held forward her sword, which was now marked with blood and streaked by his robe. She’d missed his knee, but the cut was deep. “Don’t move,” she ordered him. 

The mage scowled, reached into his cloak, and withdrew a piece of parchment wrapped around something solid. He started making a complex series of motions with his other hand, and the edges of the parchment began to glow white. “ _Manus --”_

One sword-slash to his neck and he was done.

Meanwhile, the magical vines on the other side of the room faded. The other mage and the halfling finally got to their feet. The mage saw Galvarey and two of his companions bleeding out on the floor, and cried out. His companion drew two short daggers and started to advance on Lidia and Jaheira.

“They chose their fate,” Lidia said. “You still can choose yours. Get out.” 

The mage obeyed, running out of the room. 

The halfling angrily called out, “Nadinal, you coward!” But he quickly followed suit. 

* * *

The door slammed. Lidia and Jaheira then turned their attention to the bodies. 

Lidia picked up the parchment near the mage, then unrolled it. Inside was a small statuette, hastily carved to look like a young woman. Her knowledge of magic was limited, but she guessed that this was the scroll of Imprisonment and that the mage had been preparing to use it. Few other spells required a statuette like this one.

She then went over to Galvarey and studied him for a moment. “This isn’t usually what Harpers wear, is it? Look at this,” she said, checking over Galvarey’s armor. “I’d bet it’s magical. Not to mention he either did the Cowled Wizards a massive favor or paid a massive bribe to allow for spellcasting here.” 

Jaheira kept a distance from the corpses, as though they were painful to look upon.

Lidia lifted Galvarey's large feathered collar, now stained with his blood. On his upper right arm, the armor had been embossed, and then an attempt had been made to hammer the symbol flat. She recognized it, even so. 

“The armor’s from the Order of the Radiant Heart,” Lidia said.

Jaheira knelt next to him and took a look for herself. “What would a knight be doing among Harpers?” 

“I don’t think he died as one.” She sat back on her heels. 

“Well, it does us no good to speculate. That mage will bring help soon enough. See if they have anything we might use, and then let us leave.” 

In the end, they had the Imprisonment scroll, a few coins, healing potions and other small trinkets in their packs, and little else -- Lidia had a profound distaste for parting the dead with their possessions, and Jaheira wanted to be away as soon as possible. She picked up the stray pommel on the way towards the door. As they were about to leave, Jaheira paused. 

"I'll be best off not leaving openly," she said. 

Lidia looked away. It happened in only a second or two, but she got dizzy every time she watched. "It's not really hiding if it makes an odd sight."

Jaheira growled. 

* * *

As a druid, Jaheira could take the forms of a brown bear, a black bear, and a gray wolf, and it was in this last shape that she trotted alongside Lidia. Lidia let her lead the way, following wherever Jaheira’s head turned. 

Lidia said, "Well, if anyone asks, I'll just tell them you've lived among people for years, wouldn't hurt a fly. You wouldn't make a liar out of me, would you?"

Jaheira turned away. 

Lidia realized that her friend was in no mood for levity. "Those people in there -- were any of them friends?"

She made no sound or gesture. They went the rest of the way to the Coronet in silence. 

Jaheira shifted back to her natural form just outside Coronet's back door, but only felt free to speak once they went inside towards their rooms. She took the key and started unlocking their room, giving her staff to Lidia to hold. “Hopefully we have some time before -- ” 

“Jaheira!” Bernard mopped sweat from his brow as he went down the hallway. “You shouldn't be showin' your face around where it ain't safe. Not that you ain't safe in my sight but…”

She turned to him. “But what?” 

“But I'm on good terms with Harpers and I don't want that to change.” He wrung his towel in his hands. “Word's got around about what happened. Jaheira. It ain't true, is it?”

“Not the way they tell it,” Jaheira said. “You know me. Can you trust what I do?” 

“Yes, ma’am. Good enough for me.” He bowed. 

“Thank you,” Jaheira said.

* * *

He left, and they closed the door behind them. Jaheira slumped into a nearby chair, then looked up towards Lidia. “I’m a dunce. You are still wounded.” 

“I’ll be fine,” Lidia said. “What happens now?”

“It may bode ill for us. The network already knows, and Galvarey was as close to a regional leader as the Harpers have here. The events will be told from his favor, I am sure. I see no way forward yet.” 

Lidia tried to speak again, but Jaheira raised her hand, saying. “Further talk is useless. I know we were in the right. There’s nothing else for us to do but see what comes of it.” 


	9. Chapter 9

Lidia had made emergency repairs to her equipment before; necessity and Khalid’s instruction had expanded her repertoire. But her leather breastplate now had a large burned hole in the right shoulder In the best times, the most she could have done was laboriously patch it up with inferior material. Right now, there was nothing that could be done. 

It was a pity, too. Irenicus’s laboratory had been short on decent sets of armor that actually fit. For example, they’d found a well-made piece of dark grey mail that had been made to the dimensions of a reanimated skeleton. It was too narrow to be useful to anyone except Imoen, and she preferred to travel light. 

Fortunately, everything else was more easily fixed. Lidia had a few healing spells at her disposal, and her burns were mostly gone before long. Patching her tunic was more involved, and that took an hour or so. 

Not long after she finished and put it back on, Jaheira let Yoshimo and Minsc into their room. 

* * *

Minsc was a massive man. His bronze, bald head had a few nicks upon it, as well as a large purplish-blue circle tattooed over his left eye and forehead. He had been bodyguarding a Rashemaar witch, Dynaheir, and they had joined the group early on. He had discharged his duties faithfully until Irenicus killed Dynaheir. Minsc had a strained relationship with reality on his best days; this latest tragedy didn’t help matters.

Still, Minsc was a loyal friend and a steady comrade, even if his sword occasionally had to be turned in the right direction. Besides, potential enemies often looked at him once and thought twice. Despite her smaller body, Lidia could usually achieve a similar effect by having him nearby. 

He hardly seemed to notice that he’d walked into the room. He was hunched over a small ball of tawny fur in his closed hand, but looked up after a minute or two. He announced, “While evil is hard at work, there’s no time for brave heroes to twiddle their thumbs. Something must be done to find this evil wizard. All that is goodness cries out for this!” 

He held up the small ball of fur to his ear, and then uncurled his hand to reveal his small, tawny hamster. “Even little Boo, though he cannot cry out so loudly.” Boo scrambled up Minsc’s well-muscled arm and took his usual spot on his master’s shoulder. 

Yoshimo watched Minsc with an amused look, then turned to the others. “We shall need to step carefully,” he said. “This city is dangerous for the weak and the lost.” 

When Yoshimo had joined the party, he shared their predicament: wandering Irenicus’s dungeon unbound and trying to find a way out. He had been in the adventuring Life for years, and he had come to Athkatla some time ago from Kara-Tur, far in the east beyond where any of the others had traveled.

Lidia had learned her lesson the hard way after a few incidents: anytime someone new had joined up, she kept an eye out for any signs of possible trouble with them. But with Yoshimo, she had let go of her vigilance sooner than usual. He laughed easily, told good stories, pulled more than his weight in a fight or in camp, and embraced anything that the goddess of luck threw their way. 

* * *

Lidia carefully considered what to tell them. Long ago, Jaheira had made it clear that her life as a Harper was her secret and hers alone to share, even to other members of the party. 

She finally said, “Jaheira and I followed a possible source of information this morning, but it didn’t work out.”

“Did it involve a miniature dragon?” Yoshimo said, pointing to Lidia’s ruined armor in the corner. “A horde of rampaging firenewts?”

“Ooh! Boo knows -- it’s one of his little fire-breathing cousins,” Minsc said, going over to the armor and holding the hamster’s nose close to them. “He can practically smell them.” 

Jaheira let out an exasperated sigh. 

Lidia smiled for what felt like the first time in ages. “The truth isn’t as exciting. As for finding Imoen, there’s something else we could try.” 

She then told them about what she’d learned from Lieutenant Aegisfield and then about Gaelan Bayle’s offer. 

Yoshimo seemed to think back for a moment. “I've heard a little of this Gaelan. He is a man with many connections amongst the underworld in this city. A man of his word, too, as far as that is worth.”

Jaheira cut in, “He’s involved with the Shadow Thieves, then?” 

“He probably knows a few,” he said. “Lidia, what deal did he speak?” 

“He offered me nothing but information, claiming that the only help could come from a group with enough power to cross the Cowled Wizards,” Lidia said.

“This has the Thieves’ fingerprints all over it. Who else could attempt such a thing?” Jaheira said.

Lidia looked over to Yoshimo. “Do you think so?” she asked.

Yoshimo said, “It’s possible. If you must know, oh holy samurai, I have little to do with them, though I have had a couple of run-ins with them over the past few months. The Thieves have a hand in criminal activity in many parts of the Sword Coast. Their headquarters are in this city, or so it is said. There are whole districts where the guards only come in force.”

Minsc held Boo up to his ear again, then announced, “We should do something! The wizard might be leering evilly over little Imoen even now!”

Jaheira said, “Do not be foolish, Minsc. We must know our enemies and the extent of our danger, here, before we rush into anything.”

Lidia said, “Jaheira’s right. It doesn’t sound like Irenicus and Imoen are going anywhere, at least not yet. Maybe the Cowled Wizards will realize that they’ve made a mistake.” She doubted it, even as she said it. “In any case, we can’t do much unless we find work.”

Yoshimo said, “Bernard mentioned that a Lord Jierdan Firkraag was asking after you; he said he had a job you would like. He’s not reputed to be the nicest noble in Amn, but then, who is?” 

“He asked for me, specifically?” she said. “That’s strange. When will he be here next?” 

“He comes by the Coronet every couple of days. We should run across him sooner rather than later.” 

* * *

Lidia inquired with Bernard as soon as the others left. Lord Jierdan Firkraag typically only stopped by every fourth day, as it turned out. 

“We may have to stay longer than expected, then,” she said. “We’re short on coin, I’ll admit -- ”

Bernard waved it off with his golden brown hand. “Think nothing of it,” he said. “Jaheira was light on details, but it sounds like you lot have had a bad time of it. She be a friend to many, and some owe her more than others. You and any friend of hers are welcome here, come the hells or the falling skies. ”

“I’d leave it at that if it were just Jaheira and me. But I know for a fact Minsc eats like an ogre, and my group is taking up two of your rooms.” 

He seemed to consider this. “Aye, true. You plan on waiting around for Lord Jierdan?”

“Right now, yes.”

“In that case, I have something in mind.” 


	10. Chapter 10

Lidia had a strong stomach, and when she went into the Copper Coronet’s kitchen the next afternoon, she was confident that the tasks ahead of her would be easy. 

Still, within half an hour of starting work, she wondered whether the cooks, Skratha and Dibbler, had actually killed someone. The kitchen was overdue for cleaning by several years. Spots of black mold dotted the floor, especially around the main table where Skratha worked. The smell of rotting food was overwhelming. As she spooned a watery stew into stale, hollowed-out rounds of bread, Lidia could have sworn she saw dead maggots flow out of the ladle. 

Lidia and Bernard had made an arrangement and cleared it with Lehtinan: until the group came up with money to pay their way, Lidia would help in the kitchen whenever an extra hand was needed. She had insisted to the others that it would be no trouble at all. 

Jaheira had disapproved. “For pity’s sake, I will seek out a place to sell the scrolls,” she’d said. “Do what you must for now, but let this day be the last.”

Lidia had told herself that, regardless of what her own history was, no task should be too low for her if it meant clearing a debt or helping out the group. By the end of the dinner rush, however, she was thankful that this arrangement would likely be temporary. Besides the foul smells, Skratha seemed to spend half of her time threatening Dibbler with a large hooked knife. Lidia didn’t fear for herself, but the cook’s constant, full-throated yelling was beginning to get on her nerves. 

She was relieved when Dibbler, a sly-looking, rat-faced man, called her off to the side. Two of the guards, one of the waitresses, and a girl of about twelve were waiting. The waitress had switched her stained brown dress for one made of fine red muslin.

Dibbler said, “‘Ey, can ye help take the evening guests? We’re expecting a crowd tonight, and no mistake.” 

“Of course,” Lidia said. It’d mean that the Company could stay another night or two, at least. 

“All right, then, follow me ‘ere.” He held his hand against a spot on the door, and it briefly glowed. The wall opened up to reveal a hallway with concrete walls and a packed dirt floor. Lidia waited for the others to follow Dibbler through, then went last. 

She ended up walking next to the child. The girl’s name was Celyce, and she performed a number of menial tasks around the inn. She and her pale, thin limbs could flit between the kitchen, the bar, and the main hall unnoticed and almost unseen, seemingly never resting. Madam Nin, who ran the upstairs brothel, had taken the girl in as a ward and put her to work as soon as she could follow instructions. 

“Where are we going?” Lidia asked her.

“The back,” she replied, her voice a perpetual near-whisper. 

“What’s in the back?”

“It’s where the special guests go.” 

* * *

The hallway continued a ways, where two guards watched them warily outside the door. but they stopped in front of a simple wooden door. Dibbler opened it, and a warm firelight spilled out, along with a smell of well-made sausage that instantly made Lidia hungry. 

She barely got a glimpse of what was cooking before she was pushed over to a giant vat of dirty water and a two-feet pile of wooden trenchers. She spent a couple of hours washing dishes. She tried to overhear the cooks’ discussion, but their only chatter had to do with the task at hand. The only noises that leaked in from outside were animalistic roars, spirited conversation, and raucous cheers.

* * *

Finally, Dibbler ordered, “Celyce, take Lidia with you and go to the cells.” 

Celyce slipped out with a handful of old pieces of bread. Lidia followed her with a bucket of water, wondering what Dibbler meant. The guards stood aside and let them both pass without a word. The girl darted down the hallway, then struggled to prop the door open with her foot. Lidia used her free hand to let her in, then went in after.

She found herself in a dungeon, with a dozen cells lining the walls. The grey stones lining the walls were wet with condensation. Each cell was divided by the same solid grey bricks; the only entrance were iron bars and grates; the only comforts in each cell was a bucket for waste, a thin sheet, and limp, damp straw on the cold stone floor. 

She and Celyce passed by each cell, slipping a piece of bread and a bowl of water into a small slit at the bottom of each barred gate. There were about a dozen prisoners in all: several strong men and dwarves, a few women, and a couple of children that looked even younger than Celyce. Some shot her looks of defiance, others of fear, and others of resignation. 

Several white mice scattered down the hallway and into one of the cells. She followed them to where an old man was hunched over, murmuring something and holding a talisman. His face was hidden; his bald head was ringed by a curly ridge of gray-white hair. He wore a hair shirt and pants made of rough cloth; these were covered with a gray tabard and all dirtied by the floor of his cell. Thin white scars criss-crossed his bare, leathery arms. 

Lidia leaned in to hear him. In a thin, gravelly voice, he whispered, “Ilmater, rescue your servant. Free me from this cold, dark place…” From there, he started rocking, speaking a prayer that she couldn’t make out.

She waited to speak until his whispers faded. “Excuse me?” 

He didn’t so much look up as he uncurled, turning to look at her with clouded eyes. “I can’t place your voice, but rarely do my captors have such manners.”

“Ganthet, it’s Celyce,” the young girl said, bread in hand. She didn’t push the food through the slit on the floor, but instead slipped her small arm through one of the bars, at about the height of her shoulder, holding out the bread so that Ganthet wouldn’t have to bend over to get it. She tapped on the spot with her other hand. He felt along the bar, following the sound until he found the bread, then took it into his hand.

* * *

Lidia asked, “Would you tell me what you doing here?” 

“Carrying my yoke of suffering, as I must. Perhaps he can tell you more.” Ganthet pointed directly across from his cell. 

Celyce had already gone in that direction, and was leaning against the barred door. On the other side of the bars was a mountain of a man. He was pacing in his cell, though Lidia could not tell what mood had moved him to do so; his head and face were nearly hidden under an overgrown mass of blond hair. His arms and legs were marked with slashing scars. Some of them looked like bite marks. 

Celyce pleaded, “Hendak, eat something.”

“I’m sorry, little one. I will not,” the man said. Lidia immediately placed the man’s accent as one from the far north.

Lidia went over to them. “What’s the problem?” she asked.

“I’ll get in trouble,” said Celyce.

Lidia thought for a moment. She said to Celyce, “Take care of the others and go back to the kitchen. I’ll be along.” 

Celyce handed a piece of bread to her, sharply nodded in acknowledgment, and moved on to the next cell.

* * *

Lidia stood in front of Hendak’s cage. He kept pacing and refused to acknowledge her. 

She waited until the door shut behind Celyce, then whispered, “I’m not going anywhere until I get some answers.”

He also kept his voice low. “I have refused to eat until I am granted my freedom, one way or another, through death or life.”

“Through death? What do you mean?”

He stopped and finally looked her in the eye. “Do you not know? Lehtinan sends us to fight his beasts, for the amusement of his noble fiends.”

So that’s what the cheering was, Lidia thought.

Hendak continued, “I was a proud warrior from the North until my capture by slavers. I have been imprisoned longer than any of these and survived, though only barely. I have tried to aid these other slaves and keep them living through these battles, but there was only so much I could do.” 

“And I don’t doubt you, but why are there children here? What about this priest?” 

“Lehtinan forces the women and children into servitude, and the priest there was standing in the way of it. He and his wife tried to free shipments of slaves. Every so often, they would save some. Lehtinan finally sent his guards after them and took the priest here, then ordered me taken from the roster for the games. I have been trapped here for nearly half a tenday.”

“Let me help you,” Lidia said. 

He stared at her in disbelief. “Lehtinan has his guards, his rich friends, a steady stream of gold bought with our blood. And even if you free us, he will buy more slaves to take our place. You are only one kitchen girl. What could you do?” 

Lidia straightened up and looked him in the eye. He loomed at least a head taller than her. “Nothing can repay you for all that you have suffered, but I will set you free.” 

“Why should I put my life into your hands?”

Lidia withdrew her hidden dagger, showing it to Hendak. The other inmates peered at her through their prison bars, their faces a mixture of bewilderment and doubt.

“I have my own resources, and I’m not alone,” she said. “I serve the cause of Ilmater, the One Who Weeps. My duty is to the lost and forgotten, my sword against those who would harm them.” 

Hendak said nothing, but leaned against his bars, his massive hands tightening around them. Desperation came into his eyes. He could barely keep his voice down. “If...if what you say is true -- I beg of you, please free us. I have never begged before, and yet I do it now!” 

“Is there anything you know that might help?” 

He whispered, “The beastmaster has the key to our cells. If you get the key from him, we will be able to escape.” He finally smiled. “I will take the bread, friend. My strength will be needed soon, and though my body is still imprisoned, my soul feels free for the first time in an age.”

She pushed the bread and the dagger under Hendak’s door.

* * *

Ganthet called out to her. “What is your name?”

“I'm Lidia.”

“There is a small temple to Ilmater above this place. My wife is there. Seek her out.” He reached out, and Lidia took his hand. “May the One Who Endures give you strength.” 

“And also to you,” Lidia said. “I’ll be back.”

  
  
  
  
  



	11. Chapter 11

Lidia returned to the kitchen, following the short hallway down. When she returned, Lehtinan was there, questioning Dibbler. 

Lehtinan’s heavy eyelids made him seem half-asleep, but his eyes glinted under his sallow, hooded brow. “You sent bad meat to the animal trainer. Do you realize that tonight’s contestant might have taken ill?”

“I see not what the trouble is,” Dibbler said. “Thought to save a fistful of coppers.”

“One of those animals is worth ten of you!” Lehtinan yelled, slamming his fist against a nearby table, a loud knock that echoed down the brick walls. After a moment, he regained his composure. “See that this doesn’t happen again. Or...hurrrrm...you’ll be their dinner instead.” 

Dibbler muttered some apologies, but as soon as Lehtinan’s temper cooled he was ignored. Lehtinan turned to Lidia

“Hurrrm. There you are,” Lehtinan said, dismissing Dibbler with a wave of his hand. “Pray tell, girl, what were you up to? Why was your return from the cells delayed?” 

She looked him in the eye, but kept her voice pleasant. “I convinced Hendak to eat.” 

The corner of his pale lips turned up. “Ah. Good work. He is stubborn, and Celyce was no match for him. Perhaps after a day or two, he will be fit to go to the ring again.”

She tried to sound casual. “What’s in the ring?” 

“Oh, this and that. There is more to my little place than meets the eye. Certain kinds of...entertainments where partakers may wish to escape notice. Come now, don’t look so offended. You are staying here by my forbearance, and you have little right to question how I run my business.” 

“I understand.” Courtesy and dignity, she reminded herself. Courtesy and dignity. 

“There’s a good girl,” he said. “Run along, now. You’ve done enough for your friends to remain for a few days.”

* * *

Lidia called the others together in their room and explained what she’d discovered. “We can’t stand by and do nothing.” 

Jaheira folded her arms. “I commend your honorable impulse, but it would be best for us to avoid drawing attention to ourselves.” 

“I’m not suggesting we barge in with bared blades and slaughter everyone there.”

“And why not?” Minsc said. “They throw men into pits with wild beasts! That is a crime against man _and_ nature! They will surely feel my wrath for this travesty!”

“This effort doesn’t seem worth the while to me,” Yoshimo said. “All we might do is bring down Lehtinan’s wrath, and then we’re out on the streets again.”

“Which is why we need to try some subtlety,” Lidia said. All things considered, this idea had gone over better than she’d thought it would. “Let me do some more thinking about it. I’ll come back with a plan.” 

* * *

The next morning, just after dawn and taking a bite to eat, Lidia went outside the Coronet. At this time, everything was more or less quiet, with only a few chickens running loose nearby. She made her way to the roof through the long chain of stairs that zig-zagged up the front of the Coronet, and went across the flat wooden rooftop, where a jumbled array of wooden houses sat atop the Coronet. She found the place almost at once. There was only one identifying mark: a gray flag depicting two white hands bound with a red cord. 

She immediately pulled the door open and went inside. 

The door revealed a room made almost entirely out of aging wooden slats. Several threadbare rugs padded the slightly sagging floor, and several large jars lay about. The only other furniture in the room were several old chairs and two small tables, fixed upon the wooden table that served as an altar in the front.

The altar was adorned with only a small bas-relief. It depicted the avatar of Ilmater in his usual form: a man wearing only a breechcloth bowed over from pain, suffering from many wounds on his body, yet his head was held high. A small tribute had been paid upon the altar: six burning white candles in old pewter bowls.

No one else was there except for a strongly built woman bowed to the floor in front of the altar, muttering but obviously deeply distraught. Lidia tried to leave without bothering her, but the woman wiped her face with large, gray-tinted hands and got up. 

She stood tall and straight. She brushed aside a mass of coarse hair that had once been black, but now was filled with silver threads. Her eyes were dark and red-rimmed. Despite her grief, she smiled, revealing two half-inch-long tusks on her bottom teeth. 

“Welcome. I’ve not seen you here before,” she said. “My name is Sebire. What can I do for you?” 

“I apologize for interrupting,” Lidia said. 

“You did not interrupt, child.”

“You seemed troubled. Is everything all right?” 

“My duty is to those who come seeking the Crying God’s aid. You must need him dearly to come at such an hour.” 

“I'm Lidia. Let’s talk about rescuing Ganthet.” 

* * *

Sebire began to leave the room through the small, and gestured to Lidia to follow. They went outside, then through the next rough door to the left of the temple. 

There were six beds at the front, each with a small table that served as a nightstand, and several cots hanging on the walls. The only adornment was the symbol of the bound hands upon a worn banner. A couple windows, covered with rough, translucent glass, allowed plenty of light to stream in, but also afforded privacy from passersby. It was a makeshift hospital, Lidia realized as she surveyed the beds. No one was there at the moment, but it had a few telltale signs that pointed to plenty of use: clean but worn and yellowed sheets, a full ledger sitting on a cot, a long row of X’s and names near the door. 

A small cabinet stood on the other side of the room, and on the other side of the room was a small iron stove with a bucket of wood off to the side. The woman muttered a few words, and the log ignited. With strong hands, she placed it inside the stove and tended the fire, and soon the water was hot.

So Lidia got a second breakfast, once she saw that protesting was in vain. As they ate, they talked. 

“Tell me about him,” Lidia said. 

“Ganthet and I have been wed for forty years. We have served Ilmater for just as long. He sees to the needs of the souls that come in, and I see to their bodies.” She gave Lidia a long look. “Were you treated here?” 

“No, ma’am. I was working in the kitchen yesterday and I found Ganthet, Hendak, and other slaves. I promised to help free them.”

She cast down her eyes. “You mean well, but there is little anyone can do.”

Lidia sat up. “I’m a soldier for the Crying God. I won’t simply turn aside from this.” 

"Be that as it may, you are still very young. Lehtinan does what he wants. Trading in lives like cattle, using them up and spitting them out like bad meat.” 

“Isn’t slavery illegal here?”

“So they say.” 

Lidia said, “Look. I plan to help however I can, but I don’t intend on storming the place alone. I have several friends staying at the Coronet with me." She knew she could count on Minsc and Jaheira, despite the latter's protests, and she was confident that Yoshimo would come around once the others did. "Besides,” she added, “Ganthet himself told me to find you.” 

Sebire turned away for a moment. “Stubborn old man,” she said, with a fond, crinkled smile. She turned back to Lidia with a renewed look of determination. “If you have decided, then, we have little time to waste.” 


	12. Chapter 12

They spent the next two days lingering at the Coronet, keeping their ears open for any rumors of Lord Jierdan Firkraag. They heard nothing, except that the man could be ruthless. “A dragon with his money,” he was called by one drunk patron using the Athkatlan term for a miser. In a city where spending visibly and lavishly was a widespread pastime, anyone who chose not to participate was given side glances, or at least regarded as something of a bad sport.

Gorion’s Company had other ends in mind when they finally sold the scrolls. Bernard had come by someone willing to trade, and he set up a meeting; they got a decent price for a few of them and evenly split the proceeds at a couple hundred gold pieces each.

Most of the money had gone towards improving their gear. Most of their possessions had gone missing after Irenicus captured them. They were eager to start finding replacements, especially when signs pointed towards more dangerous work than doing dishes.

Lidia, for her part, spent most of her money on a few pieces of clothing and the best gambeson she could afford. This was a quilted, padded jacket that could serve as a bit of protection in a pinch, and was a crucial layer under mail or metal. It even had some sturdy cord ties for attaching pieces of armor. For Lidia, picking up a decent set of field plate was mostly wishful thinking for now. But one could always dream. 

* * *

On the third day, Bernard passed along this message to Lidia: “Lord Jierdan is in the common room. I told him that you’re interested in meeting. Don’t delay.” 

Lidia took Yoshimo, Minsc, and Jaheira along, as soon as they were able and as non-obviously armed as they could manage, 

They went down the hall towards the bar, which was bustling in its usual state of tightly-maintained peace. A low hum permeated, with the occasional burst of alcohol-cheered noise. The air of good humor was contagious, but the presence of guards had doubled. Two of them were escorting a particularly aggressive patron by the scruff of his worn, dirt-spattered work shirt. Shouting something at the man, they slammed the heavy door behind him. The noise disturbed two bats upon a high rafter, who flitted to the other side of the room. 

Gorion’s Company only had to glance at Bernard, and he pointed out where the lord was sitting, at a round, roughly-hewn table nearby.

Lord Jierdan was as powerfully muscled as any fighter she’d seen, with ruddy skin and a broad nose that flared every so often. If it weren’t for the finely embroidered vest he was wearing, she might have mistaken him for a laborer. Lidia didn’t have much experience with alcohol, but she was certain that his drink, a still and clear amber color, was meant to be served in a much smaller glass. He was stirring the drink with a wooden stick, clearly impatient with his current conversation.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Yoshimo said. 

“I need a moment,” Lidia said. “I don’t want to go into this blind.” She cleared her mind and lowered her head. She cast out a thought in Lord Jierdan’s direction. 

Immediately, her arms shook, and her heart started pounding, as though it were preparing for a fight. She leaned against the edge of the bar to steady herself.

The others gathered around her, partly to shield her from any curious stares. 

“Are you all right?” Yoshimo asked. 

Lidia whispered, “We’ll go ahead, but step lightly.” She tried to calm herself with a few deep breaths. Her arms finally stopped quaking, but it took longer before the roar of her pulse in her ears subsided. 

"Right into danger, well ahead of schedule,” Yoshimo said with a grin. “If the rest of us get ensorcelled somehow, you'll come for us, right?"

Jaheira said a bit too loudly, “Blast it all, but you’ve had too much already!” She put up a charade of helping Lidia to her feet, and called Bernard for a glass of water. 

Lord Jierdan glanced towards the Company as they approached. He interrupted his current conversation with a wave of his hand. “Excuse me, but I need to speak with these good people. Mark my words, you’d be better off joining your fellows in this venture.” 

A flash of irritation crossed the other man’s face, but it passed just as quickly. “As you say,” he said. He had a posh accent that seemed partly put-upon. “It is still an evil that must be crushed regardless of who deals with it.” He was two heads shorter than Lord Jierdan, but well built, and he clearly was a warrior looking for a chance to ply his trade; that was the most likely explanation Lidia could think of for why he wore mail and a mace to a bar. The man retreated to a recently-emptied table nearby. 

* * *

As Lidia and the others approached Lord Jierdan, she put on her best face for affable business. Despite what Minsc might claim, dealing with evil sometimes required a cool head. 

Lord Jierdan stood up and offered his hand. He cast an appraising, amber-colored eye towards her. “You there. Lidia, is it? I would have a word with you. I am called Lord Jierdan Firkraag, and I bid you stand a moment and hear what I offer.”

“Yes, I was told to find you,” Lidia said. “We’re known as Gorion’s Company.” 

They shook hands. His grip was like a vise. 

“Word has come to me of your actions,” Lord Jierdan said. “I see you as capable and headstrong, with the ability to handle what e'er is thrown at you. Just the type of creature that I am looking for.”

“Flattery is not necessary, m’lord,” Lidia said, “but that’s neither here nor there. I do have a suggestion, though.”

He raised a dark eyebrow. 

“Would you like to speak your offer to me in more...suitable surroundings?” She glanced towards a strong pair of double doors, on their left and towards the back. 

He sported a grin full of rough yellow teeth. “I assume you mean the games, of course.” 

“Of course,” Lidia said. “Find a spot for us. We won’t be far behind.” 

* * *

As Lord Jierdan left, Lidia finally noticed that Minsc had drifted off to the next table. 

His voice boomed, “Minsc and Boo have never run from a fight, no indeedy! Boo may be small, but he has much courage for one so tiny!” 

Lidia and Jaheira exchanged concerned glances, and they went over to him, with Yoshimo following. 

* * *

Thankfully, the man in mail was not interpreting Minsc’s words as a challenge, and in fact seemed to take them in stride. “Tell me then, Minsc, be you a force for evil or good?”

Minsc replied, “Evil trembles before Minsc and Boo, because we apply the hobnailed boot soles of righteousness to evil behinds, yes sir! It is good of you to ask. And now, hold still, that Boo may examine you.” 

Boo ran down Minsc’s arm, crawled into the giant hand, and peered out as his master thrust the hamster into the man’s face.

“Minsc, what are you doing?” Lidia asked.

“He is pointing a rodent at me,” the man said incredulously, leaning away from the fur-filled fist.

“Boo is a miniature giant space hamster, thank you very much,” Minsc said. He withdrew his hand and stared into the hamster’s beady black eyes and twitching whiskers. “Hm. He does not know what to make of you.”

Lidia said to the man, “I apologize for my friend. We’ll stop bothering you." As Yoshimo and Jaheira went towards the back, Lidia tried to draw off Minsc, who was still studying his hamster. It was like willing a mountain to move.

* * *

The man in mail sat up. “A moment, if you would. I’ve seen a fair few people enter and leave those back rooms, and you do not look like the kind who normally frequents them. Tell me, lady, what are you doing in this cesspool of corruption?” 

“If you call this place a ‘cesspool,’ then I might ask you the same thing,” Lidia said. 

“One cannot seek to rid the earth of foul corruption by avoiding that same corruption. Perhaps your path links closely to my own,” he said. 

“Perhaps it does, but I’d rather not give out our business to a stranger.” 

“Then let us not remain strangers,” he said. He stood and bowed. “I am Anomen, warrior-priest of Helm. What is your name?”

“Lidia,” and she pointed to the other members of the group. “This is Yoshimo, Jaheira, and...you’ve met Minsc and Boo.” 

“Your reputation precedes you, if it makes Lord Jierdan take notice,” Anomen said. “Perchance I have found worthy companions. I seek to be knighted in the Order of the Radiant Heart and I must prove my worth, first. Have you need of a strong warrior, my lady?”

Lidia glanced over her shoulder for a moment. Jaheira was aggressively gesturing at the doors. Minsc had finally drifted off towards her and Yoshimo. “As much as we could use one,” she said to him, “this isn’t the best time for us to take on someone new. Lord Jierdan is waiting for us.” 

“Indeed, the man faces great hardship if these attacks continue,” he said, pulling in his chair and taking his small pack.

“What I mean is -- ” After making sure Lehtinan was out of earshot, she leaned in and whispered, “We’re getting into different trouble, right now.” 

“Excellent! Adventure and honor await us both!”

She was tempted to set him straight, but then realized she’d be turning down free help. If he was who he claimed and was up for the possibility of danger, she thought, she could work with that. She vigorously shook Anomen’s hand. “Well said, and welcome to Gorion’s Company. Now, if you’ll follow us in…”

* * *

She and Anomen went over to where the others were waiting. Jaheira shot her a quizzical look.

Lidia whispered, “He wants to help, and we could use an extra hand if things go south.”

“If you think it wise,” Jaheira said, in a tone that guaranteed she’d have more to say on the subject later.

Two guards stopped them at the double doors. These ones, especially, didn’t look as though they were playing around; they each wore mail and carried longswords and bows. One peered at them underneath his helmet. “You don’t look like one of Lehtinan’s,” he said. 

“We’re guests of Lord Jierdan Firkraag,” Lidia said. 

The guard gave the other one a look and offered no more protests, unlocking the doors and opening them up. “On your way, then, ma’am. Enjoy.”

* * *

Minsc and Lidia went in first, with Anomen following shortly afterwards. Yoshimo and Jaheira hung back for a moment. They thought she couldn’t overhear them.

“So, this thing we’re doing -- undercutting our host alongside some stranger in a bar -- is this something she normally does?” Yoshimo asked.

“I have told her to do right, but in a sensible fashion.” Jaheira said. “But does she listen to me? No.” 


	13. Chapter 13

The Company went through the strong double doors into a hallway which split off into three parts. Discovering the right direction was simple. A low hum of activity floated down the hall to the right, and they followed it through the open door, then up a set of wooden stairs.

The stairs led to a stadium that seemed to have been partly dug into the earth. From the look of it, one of the massive additions housed this part of the Coronet and scaffolded the small neighborhood outside. This place had looked much smaller on the outside, certainly.

This place seemed to have had more care and money invested into it than the whole outside bar did. A polished and freshly cleaned cherry-wood balcony ringed the walls, providing plenty of space for the guests to mingle. The stone walls were covered with a repeating pattern of two wide tapestries, all reaching from the ceiling to the ground. One was the black, pearl-ringed symbol of Athkatla, and the other was the symbol of Amn: a red field bearing the solitary image of a standing golden lion. Two dozen magical lanterns, flameless and fuel-less globes of light, were scattered throughout the room; some were housed in intricate iron sconces, others hung lazily in the air. A network of sturdy planks held everything in place and kept the whole thing from collapsing in on itself, allowing the bloodsports to take place under everyone's feet.

Two distinct classes of people lingered here, both men and women. One set wore brightly hued, gold-embroidered silk robes and turbans with several rings on each finger. The others wore the same rough surcoats and tunics as those outside the double doors; they were probably regular patrons of the Coronet whom Lehtinan liked enough to allow in.

Built into the nearby wall were six sets of wooden doors, each with a guard standing nearby. Lidia wondered what those rooms were for, and watched. 

Suddenly, one of the doors opened and two men emerged, one clearly wealthier than the other. They bowed, shook hands, and then parted, each drifting to those who looked and spoke like them. The same thing happened at a different door as well, but they each picked up a drink from a small cart parked in the center, and raised a toast before they parted. They were striking deals, Lidia realized. Probably the kind that required the secrecy of guards, burrowed earth, and a façade.

* * *

A short man caught them by surprise. He greeted them with a clap on Yoshimo's back, waving a paper schedule in his hand and effusing the professional excitement of a town crier. The red feather in his sky-blue turban shook as he talked. "Why, hello to you, dear customers! Welcome to the pit!"

"I take it you have animal fights here?" Jaheira said icily.

"Better than that! Here we have the very best in live entertainment! Actual combat between man and beast, presented for your viewing pleasure!"

"I'm sure you pay them handsomely for this work," Lidia said, folding her arms. "And that they aren't coerced into it. Yes?"

Frankie seemed to think on this for a moment, then resumed his ebullient manner. "Willing or unwilling, it makes little difference. I'm sure you'll agree they put on an excellent show!" He flourished his hand towards the ring. "Go on and witness for yourself!"

Frankie broke his attention away from them almost as abruptly as he'd greeted them. Two noblemen had just entered, their turbans nodding as they greeted the doorkeeper; they seemed to be repeat customers.

Anomen said, "My lady -- "

"Call me Lidia, please."

He was taken aback for a moment, then continued, "These practices are vile. Surely we will not stand by and allow this to continue?"

Lidia kept her voice low. "I don't plan on it."

She strode forward, looked to the rest of the group, and gestured towards the wooden doors. "Shall we go see what Lord Jierdan wants?"

* * *

Lord Jierdan lingered outside the farthest room. When they approached, the servant with him opened the door, and Lord Jierdan went inside. The servant ushered the Company in after him.

This small room was windowless and clean, and the only exit was the door behind them. The only furniture was a small round table with two chairs, all with plenty of heft and kept nicely polished. Even a small, practical space like this had been decorated with wooden bas-reliefs on the wall, and there was a lingering smell: sweet and floral, but in a way that wafted straight into the brain and invited torpor. A fire blazed at the front, below a large, gold-leafed image of the face of golden-haired Waukeen, the goddess of wealth and trade - both honest and illicit.

The others filed in after her and stood in the back of the room, for there weren't enough seats for all of them. As Lidia took a seat on one side table, Lord Jierdan waited on the other.

He produced two glasses filled half-full with the same amber liquor Lidia had seen him drink earlier. He pushed one across the table. It came to rest in front of her.

He raised his glass, and downed the contents in one gulp. Lidia followed suit. The drink was a little sweet, but it burned her mouth and throat on the way down. She swallowed a few times until the feeling stopped. She caught Lord Jierdan staring at her.

"This is a good brandy, is it not?" he said.

"Your judgment in these matters is much better than mine, m'lord," Lidia said.

"You would prefer to get straight to the point, then? I shall outline what you wish to know." Lord Jierdan absentmindedly closed his hand, in and out, dragging his fingernails upon the polished wood tabletop. "Certainly you understand that these are dangerous times, and that extreme measures are often called for. That is why I have need of you. I am Lord of a community outside Athkatla, and while I provide for my people as best that I can, there are some things I cannot do. Battle is not my strong point."

She doubted that was true, as he seemed to be more than a match for any of them, but she said nothing.

He continued, "There are marauders, horrid ogres and trolls that must be destroyed with fire. I need a firm hand to push them back. I need you, Lidia. I offer a grand sum, worthy of your stature. I offer ten thousand gold if you can free my land of this scourge. It is a fortune, you will agree."

Her brow furrowed. "Certainly it is. You could have an entire company of soldiers for that price."

"Ah, but you would not lump yourself together with common mercenaries, would you? No, I require someone with finesse and skill, as well as strength. You are ideal. You are the choice I make, and the offer stands whether you go now or not."

"Just as well," she said. "We'll need some time to prepare."

Lord Jierdan’s wide, yellow-toothed grin showed itself again. "I have no doubt your service will be exemplary. If all goes well, we shall all receive exactly what we deserve."

He stood in his chair and bowed low. He left the room with the drink in hand, finishing the last drops of brandy and tossing the glass to the ground, indifferent to the sound of its shatter. He turned right, and headed down the stairs to the rest of the Coronet. The other patrons cleared the way for him as he left.

* * *

The Company was left in the room to consider his offer. After he was well out of earshot, Lidia silently got up from her seat and closed the door behind them.

"Well, what say you?" Jaheira said.

She replied, only half-convinced, "It sounds like good work."

Minsc stroked the hamster on his shoulder. "Ooh! To take swords against monsters of great evil! Already I feel Boo wriggling in excited anticipation!"

"I think it would be an excellent idea to get outside of the city and administer justice on such evil creatures," said Jaheira. "Tyranny is best matched with equal force."

Anomen said, "I also would advise you to take him up on this offer. Whether these ogres threaten his people or his businesses, eastern Amn faces enough foes as it is."

Lidia thought for a long moment. "If this offer is genuine - and to me, that seems like a big 'if' - then we'll need more help before we can hold up our end."

"O illustrious leader," Jaheira said, "perhaps you ought to enlighten us on your thinking."

Lidia turned back towards the closed door. "Something's not right. He's offering a lot of money without a call for urgency or further planning." And he sought me out by name, she silently added. "Besides," she said, "The evil I sensed on him was the strongest I've ever gotten on anything."

Yoshimo said, "Your knightey-sense was on the mark. When a man gives a young woman that much, she normally looks worse for wear afterward."

"Oh, the drink? I thought he just wanted to ease me into a deal."

"What you had went far beyond 'easing'. I would ask if you were born yesterday, but you're as sober as a judge, so that question is answered for me."

"The same thing would happen if he'd given me six," Lidia said. She hurriedly added, "Not that I'd take six, but immunity to poison includes the kinds that kill more slowly."

"Ah, and that's the catch," Yoshimo said. "No cause for revelry when one embodies the holy fury of the gods."

"And you can sense evil...you're a paladin, then?" Anomen's face had a look of disbelief.

Lidia knew she hardly looked the part, but that question still rubbed her the wrong way. What didn't help matters is that she knew it wouldn't be the last time she heard it. "Yes. I've worked with someone from your Order before, as a matter of fact." She quickly changed the subject. "There's something else that needs doing while we're here. I didn't take all of you along just to see the scenery."

Yoshimo opened up his fist. "I assume that's why you asked me to find this?" A thick iron key lay in his palm.

"Dare I ask how you got it?" Lidia said.

Yoshimo said with a grin, "Bernard. He was in a much better position to get a hold of it. I even said please."

  
  



	14. Chapter 14

Yoshimo handed the key to her. “Here. I’ll move into position.” 

He moved the table to the back of the room, climbed atop of it, and started loosening wooden slats from the ceiling. They easily came undone.

“You spoke of trouble earlier?” Anomen said, turning to Lidia.

“Lehtinan keeps slaves,” she replied. “Some of them fight in the rings here. We’re going to start a distraction and get them out.”

“This place is thick with guards,” he said. “Do you intend to take them all on?”

“Not if I can help it. Stick with Minsc and me.”

* * *

Jaheira slipped out of the group, into the crowd, and went down the stairs. The rest of Gorion’s Company left the meeting rooms and went towards the growing noise, the polished balcony, and the arenas. 

As they got closer to the edge of the balcony, they got a better view of the ring itself. The ceiling was propped up by rafters, like a wooden skeleton keeping watch over the death that took place. The fighting rings themselves were dug into the earth, with only a set of stairs in each ring to allow entrances and exits. Long spikes bristled from the pits’ sides, so that anything tossed or thrown against the wall stood a good chance of being impaled. Each of the pits seemed to have been coated with a new layer of sawdust, but Lidia still smelled a faint whiff of blood, mostly masked by the smell of tobacco smoke and that torporifying floral scent -- the torchlight was softened by faint fog. 

Around the balcony, there were few places to sit, but the crowd, rich and poor and in between, was thronging together, jockeying for open space along the railing. Everywhere money was passing from hand to hand, anticipation measured by the rising pitch of excited conversation. 

Much of the chatter revolved around the slaves. Hendak was mentioned again and again, though there were disappointed-sounding rumors that he had been pulled from today’s lineup. The gambling tables evidently weren’t doing as well as they might, because the odds they were naming weren’t as good: three-to-one on the bear, five-to-one on the dwarf. 

* * *

Towards the opposite side of the balcony, in a small, fenced-off box, a man with a bright green hat cleared his throat. A hush rose over the crowd like a wave. 

He removed a small ball from his pocket and muttered something. Soon it was floating in front of him, glowing with a blue light. His voice boomed louder than that of any mortal man. “If I may have your attention once again, gentlefolk of Athkatla! Lehtinan is proud to provide for your amusement once again! Bring your attention to the pit as we see a combatant fighting for his very life!”

In the side of the room, a small door opened. A dwarf, stripped to the waist, hands manacled, and carrying only a dagger, was shoved across the room by guards and forced into the ring. He stumbled to one side, narrowly avoiding the spikes.

The crowd cheered and jeered, but the dwarf quickly rose to his feet, a look of defiance burning behind his wild, yellow-red hair and beard. From here, all could see a long, ragged scar raked from his shoulder to his collarbone. 

The dwarf shouted: “I will not fight! This is inhuman! How can you suffer this to continue? How can you -- ”

“You have no choice!” the announcer shouted. “Refuse and be devoured for the entertainment of our guests!”

A hail of boos descended from the crowd.

The announcer continued, his amplified voice cutting through the noise: “I trust all bets have been placed! Begin!” 

* * *

Five guards appeared from a side hallway, bringing in a brown bear by several chains. The audience cheered when it was brought out. 

Lidia overheard someone nearby: “My, that one looks strong. A step up from those pitiful creatures they usually bring forth.” 

And in fact this bear was a massive, its shoulder the same height as its handlers. It looked as though it had stumbled into town from the wilderness, with its glossy coat; its wildness seemed impossible to contain; it was all the guards could do to keep it pinned down. It lurched and strained against the chain, pressed forward with jabs from the guards’ spears, and so was led down into the pit. As soon as the bear had finished descending the stairs, the guards half climbed, half leapt back up them again. A guard pushed a button near the edge of the pit, and the stairway retreated. The bear and the dwarf now had no escape. They began to circle each other. 

* * *

Lidia looked up to the rafters. A small flash of silver caught the light and met her eye. 

“Let’s go,” she whispered to the others.

“Justice is called for here! We cannot allow this to continue,” Anomen said, earning him some stares from the people crowded around him. 

She couldn’t impress her point upon him without giving the game away, and in any case there was little time for that. Luckily, she’d discovered that the best strategy for managing an adventuring party, most of the time, was to keep things moving. They usually followed out of curiosity if nothing else.

She turned on her heel, choosing the easiest path through the crowd. She tugged on Minsc’s arm, and he followed, with Anomen behind them. The crowd parted in front of the three of them and instantly filled the empty spot on the balcony. 

They moved against the crowd flowing forward. A raucous cheer spread around the amphitheater, punctuated with shouts: “Hit ‘em again!” 

* * *

Lidia traced a path towards the back, where the large wooden door led to the kitchen. Celyce was slipping several wooden trays through a small slot. Through the slot, Dibbler’s voice crowed an order laced with obscenities. Clearly, Lehtinan’s dressing-down from the other day hadn’t improved his mood. Celyce seemed more beaten down than usual, wiping her eye as she turned away.

“Good to see you. I brought friends,” Lidia said.

The girl gave Minsc an uncertain look. 

“It’s all right,” Lidia said. “His sword is strictly for evildoers.” 

“Who is shouting so?” Minsc said. “We shall teach them a thing or three about decency, respect, and making little girls cry!” 

Celyce looked a bit insulted at being called a “little girl,” but gave Lidia a quick nod and broke out into her brisk walk. She pushed aside the nearest wall tapestry to reveal another wooden door. “Here,” she whispered, nudging aside a small metal bolt. 

They slipped through the door and found themselves in total darkness. 

* * *

Celyce pulled out a small gem from her pocket, which instantly bathed the hallway in a faint trace of moonlight and made the girl’s small, thin, pale hand seem almost translucent. This place strongly resembled the hallway that Lidia had taken the other day, and it seemed to branch off into two directions about ten feet ahead. A faint glow flashed, then dimmed from the left side; she guessed that it came from the kitchen. 

“It’s far past time we received an explanation,” Anomen said, now sounding mildly put out. 

As if on cue, a shout issued from the crowd, muffled by the wooden door. But this time, the shouts were filled with panic. 

“That’s our distraction,” Lidia said.

“And our role is…?”

“Insurance. Celyce, lead the way.”

* * *

They turned to the right and came to a worn wooden door. To Lidia’s surprise, the guards were absent. Celyce stepped forward and rapped five times on the wood. 

Almost immediately the lock opened. The silver in Sebire’s hair gleamed in the white light. She furiously gestured with their hand. “Quick and quiet, now.” 

They all filed into the prison. The inmates, fifteen in all, were all on their feet, their meager possessions all piled into their hands or into makeshift cloth pack. They waited expectantly, blinking in the light from the torch that Hendak carried. None made a sound.

Lidia produced the key that Yoshimo had given her. “Do you need this?” 

“It’ll make things a mite faster,” she said, her large, grayish hand closing over the key. She handed it to the girl. “Celyce, unlock the cell doors. I’ll get these poor souls on their feet.”

Lidia shut and bolted the door, then turned to Minsc and Anomen. “Until they’re ready to leave, we hold this room.” 

The sound of metal on metal, raised voices, and heavy footfalls suddenly grew louder. 


	15. Chapter 15

A mighty blow shook the door and the latch, briefly echoing from the stone walls. 

Minsc drew his sword. “Never fear! When evil knocks, justice --”

Lidia rushed towards the door, leaning forward against it. “Stall them!” 

Another blow reverberated through the wood and her body, rattling her teeth. 

In a moment, Minsc and Anomen were on either side of her, holding the door in place. She listened closely to the voices on the other side and timed the barrage of kicks. There had to be at least five of them, she guessed.

“As Boo was saying,” Minsc said, not deterred by this sudden development, “when evil knocks, justice is waiting at the door, ready to serve butt-kicking for supper!” He turned to Anomen. “But first we shall need to find you a battle cry.” 

Anomen began protesting, “I should hardly think -- ”

“It is not about thinking! It is a shouted turn of phrase that strikes fear into all evildoers!” 

“As in, ‘No, they’re over there’?” Lidia said. 

Another series of kicks shook the door. The last one cracked the wood.

“I have raised such cries on each occasion that battle was joined, all in service to the Order,” Anomen said. “They shall serve me in good stead.” 

No one could say that with a straight face, she was certain of that. She looked at Anomen’s face for a moment. Torm’s beard, he _was_ serious.

* * *

Another crack of breaking wood, and a boot appeared through the bottom of the door, stuck in place. 

“Sebire!” Lidia shouted. “We’re out of time!”

The priestess handed off the boy to one of the women and the beastmaster’s key to Hendak, then rushed towards them. 

Hendak stood in front of the far side of the room, and dragged the key along the concrete with his free hand, muttering to himself, “The spot is somewhere -- “

* * *

Sebire turned towards their door and extended her fingers. “ _Vita, mortis, careo!”_

Gray smoke emanated from her fingertips, rolled forward, stretched itself into a long plume, and wrapped itself around the stuck boot before dissipating. A voice on the other side of the door gave a horrible scream of pain. The boot withdrew from the door. 

Lidia stepped back and drew her shortsword. “We’ll hold them off.”

Sebire said, “Come with us instead. Darker dangers still lie ahead, and where we go they will not follow.” 

* * *

“There it is!” Hendak shouted. A flash of blue light emanated from his fist. The outline of a door appeared, then emptied itself of the wall, leaving only a void where the outline used to be. He held his hand to the spot, the key glowing inside of it. 

“Go!” Sebire shouted. 

Celyce stood aside and held aloft her light stone, which bravely glowed pale against the deepening shadows. The prisoners went through the doorway and were swallowed up by the darkness, but their noises still drifted in. They were passing through but lingering nearby, not daring to wander too far.

After all the others had filed out, Hendak, Sebire, Anomen, Minsc, and Lidia followed. Celyce stayed put.

Lidia rested her hand on the girl’s arm, saying, “Come with me. I don’t want the guards to find you here.” 

Celyce gave a small smile and put the light stone into Lidia’s hand. It flickered out as she let go. She pulled a small vial from her pocket, no bigger than her thumb. In one smooth motion with her free hand, she removed the stopper and downed the liquid inside. She instantly disappeared from sight.

Before Lidia could parse what happened, a loud crack filled the room. The door was beginning to splinter. The head of an axe appeared inside of it. She ducked through the portal, and it closed behind her. 

* * *

Hendak held his torch aloft, moving it aside just as quickly from a stream of dripping water. 

They found themselves in a long concrete hallway, upon a smooth floor with two ditches on each side..Behind them, the only marker of the spot they’d left were two looping C’s crudely scratched into the wall. Making this mark had been no easy task, by the look of it. The entire tunnel was fashioned with that same smooth concrete that only hardened with time; not a crack was in sight. They had descended deep into the city’s old, mighty bones. 

Lidia looked around and tried to guess what this place was. The scent of sewage and salt from the river harbors was especially strong here. Algae coated the walls in large patches. And everywhere -- the ditches on the side of the walkway, the ceilings overhead, trenches spilling down the walls -- everywhere was the sound and motion of water. 

“Are we in the sewers?” she asked, to no one in particular.

“Once, but no longer,” Sebire said. She chanted, “ _Praeses, alia, fero!”_ Her hand glowed brightly, lighting everything about her. She ordered everyone forward, and began leading the group down a path of similar-looking tunnels that seemed familiar to her nonetheless.

As the group walked, Lidia carefully noted their route, mentally marking out what spots along the way had cairns, piles of refuse, and markings on the wall. She also gleaned a few more hushed, hurried details. This place was now mostly a storm drain, pouring excess water into the sea somewhere far away; many nooks and crannies served as hideouts for Athkatla’s lost, forgotten, and unsavory residents. Most of the city’s material refuse actually traveled below this place, down to great furnaces in the darkest depths.

* * *

After fifteen minutes or so, Lidia found herself walking next to Hendak and just behind Sebire. All were looking out the corner of their eye for the usual suspects: slimes, mutant rats, sewer snakes, and criminals either brave or foolish enough to brave them all. So far nothing had appeared. The water ran quickly enough here to discourage slimes, for one thing. 

Lidia finally asked about something that had been bothering her. “Hendak, where’s Ganthet?”

“Gone,” he said. “Taken in the dead of night, while the rest of us slept.” 

“Did you hear or see anything?” 

“I awoke to hear two voices I knew not, but I saw nothing and there was no light.” 

She turned this over in her mind, but she knew Ganthet’s predicament would have to wait.

* * *

Sebire’s steps slowed. Many of the escapees clung to each other more closely, the children now carried by the adults, all peering around them in anticipation of some threat. Their voices were tighter and lower. 

Lidia moved to the front of the group. “Everything all right?” she asked Sebire, keeping her voice low.

“I’ve gone this route a number of times, but always with Ganthet. Something tells me to go there” -- here she pointed down the dark tunnel -- “but I don’t remember it that way. A number of the others are convinced they went this way when they were taken. No good will come whether we move forward or turn aside.” 

Lidia rubbed the light stone in her pocket, clearing her mind. She didn’t feel the pull that Sebire described. She called out to Minsc and Anomen, and they moved up from the back. “We’re going to investigate,” she said. “There’s something strange ahead.” 

She didn’t fully unveil the stone, but held it forward inside her first and let the light pour through the cracks in her hand, making it easier to see without blinding them in the dark. 

They traveled down thirty feet or so down the silent, watery tunnel, going slowly so that they wouldn’t lose their footing. Their noses had become accustomed to the tunnel smell, but as they made their way forward, the fumes grew overwhelming. 

“Cover your nose, Boo!” Minsc said. “This is a den of stinking evil, and no mistake!” 

“I do not fear what lies ahead, but I doubt we can withstand it without help,” Anomen said in between coughs.

Both men’s eyes were red and running. She herself was fine, except for needing to draw deeper breaths. She tried to think of anything that could prevent non-magical poisoning, and came up empty. Even Zone of Sweet Air wouldn’t do the trick here. 

“Both of you, fall back and warn the others,” Lidia said. Anomen immediately complied, retreating to where Sebire and the others waited, while Minsc seemed to hesitate. 

“Boo won’t make it. Go!” 

Minsc finally turned back without any further protest, mightily coughing the whole way. Thankfully, he seemed to need no further help as he withdrew. 

She wondered whether he had hesitated out of loyalty or whether that strange pull Sebire described was also affecting him. She considered going back herself; all that seemed to be here was noxious fumes from scraps of ancient waste. But the source of this pull had to be found and dealt with, or else the others risked being drawn into a trap. 

* * *

She looked towards the source of the smell. There was a space on her left that swallowed the light. 

She came closer, and found the spot: a giant tunnel that seemed to be partially melting, dwarfing her in height and width. It seemed to be constructed entirely of brown muck. Only one place reflected the light back to her: a sword stuck in the mud at the entrance. 

She drew closer to study it. It was buried deep, with only two feet of the blade and the hilt sticking out. The hilt was most unusual, too; the pommel was carved into the shape of the claw, and it had a brass snake curving its way around the grip.

“You’re alive! _You’re alive!_ ” A reedy voice issued from the sword. 

Lidia jumped back and drew her own blade, momentarily startled. 

The same voice again came from the stuck sword: “Haha! C’mon, missy, is this even a contest? You need at least two extra feet of stabbing action!” 

She cautiously approached it. “How’d you get here?” 

“My former owner died, and these slimy little hands put me in the ground and left me here! Take me with you! Please, pretty please?” 

“How do I know you aren’t cursed? Or that you’ll betray me to whatever’s down that hole?” 

“I don't know what you are expecting, but as a sword, I'm pretty one-dimensional in what I want. I wanna kill something, not just sit here! And you look like you’ve got a decent swing.”

Its personality notwithstanding, this was a good sword. She hoped she wouldn’t regret this.

She sheathed her blade and drew the talking sword out, admiring how the muck seemed to roll off its five-foot blade without a trace. She passed the sword from hand to hand; she detected no change in her grip, emotions, or state of mind. But even If this thing wasn’t cursed, it was still alerting anyone nearby with ears. 

“Can we go kill something now, huh?” The sword sounded almost manic. 

“Pipe down and I’ll consider it.”

She stepped off the concrete walkway into the mouth of the tunnel, and immediately sank into the ground, almost up to the top of her boots. Every step forward was a laborious effort. She spotted something and stopped.

She lowered the light. In front of her was a skeleton, its arms and legs still covered in rotting flesh, its skull completely clean. The top of its head was cracked open. 

  
  



	16. Chapter 16

Lidia stared down at the body, shuffling a bit closer. This was a fresh kill, from the look of it. The broken skull was completely hollow and carefully cleaned inside and out. The rest of the body was a barely recognizable mess; its torso, arms, and legs had been gnawed and chewed. 

She heard a noise behind her, outside the tunnel, and turned towards it. 

Five of the escapees were stumbling forward, coughing heavily. One was pulling herself forward on her hands and knees. Several shouts echoed. The rest of the group was drifting towards her. Four others -- from this distance, it looked like Minsc, Anomen, Sebire, and Hendak -- were trying in vain to stop them.

* * *

She moved the light stone from her palm to her fingertips and raised it high, illuminating the mouth of the tunnel. A void lay ahead. She couldn’t tell from here how far the tunnel still went. 

A noise issued from the darkness: something like a frog croak, but more raspy and much louder. She looked towards the darkness, lowered her head, and focused on the noise. 

Her left arm twanged and shook, settling down again after a few moments. 

At the edge of the light, something slithered. 

A deep, stern voice resounded inside her mind: “You are not of the Enlightened Ones. Why do you seek me?” 

Lidia shouted, “Let them go!” 

She felt a sense of unease and puzzlement, but not from within herself. Then a blow from inside her own skull. She wavered for a moment on her feet, nearly falling backwards into the mud, but the blow passed and died, doing no more harm than a knock on the door. 

A creature wearing a threadbare black robe, as tall and upright as a human, floated atop the mud and stopped two paces away. It peered at her, its milky white eyes flicking here and there. Its eight long, clawed fingers, its bald mouthless head, and the four arm-length tentacles on its face were all mottled mauve, their skin’s texture like a naked shellfish. 

The light blazed brighter in Lidia’s hand, as though her will were fueling it. She held it directly in front of her. The creature flinched, shading its eyes with its narrow fingers. Through the tenuous foothold it held in her mind, she sensed it was in pain. 

She said, “No tricks. Release them.” 

The same voice spoke again in her mind. “You see me as I am.” 

“If you’re actually a mind flayer, then yes.” 

“I cannot let you see me and live.”

The raspy croaks from the darkness grew closer and louder. 

“Too much talking. Time to kill someone already!” the sword said. 

The mind flayer retreated, turning away from the light and floating away. The voice in her mind spoke again. She clearly pictured it this time as having a wry smile. “Farewell, fool. It was not I who called them.” 

* * *

Lidia had no idea what lay beyond in the shadows, but she suspected she’d need to muster everything to survive the next few minutes. 

She shut her eyes for a moment. Within herself, she went to a place that her mind’s eye had pictured as a bottomless well. She stared down into the void, daring to ignore what stared back. And reached. 

Immediately a new burst of strength filled her body. She fell back to the harder ground near the edge of the cave, moving much more easily through the mud than she did before. 

A second creature emerged into the light. 

Lidia would later describe this creature as a giant lobster, but that wasn’t entirely true. Lobsters usually scuttled along the ocean floor and minded their own business unless they encountered a rolling boil and some butter. This monster, called a chuul by the denizens of the Underdark, raised itself upon four strong legs that easily waded through the muck. Its two front limbs were a pair of massive pincers, lined on the inside with extremely sharp-looking spikes. Nearly every inch was armored in a hard, greenish-yellow chitin. And instead of antennae on its hard, domed head, a mass of red tentacles came from its mouth. 

A different will was pounding upon the outside of her mind now, this one feral and incoherent, full of rage and with only one desire: to eat its prey. As it focused upon her, a change came over the prisoners trying to approach. Most were now beating a hasty retreat. The one closest to her had collapsed altogether, too sick even to move. 

* * *

Lidia let both the sword and the light stone fall. Her arms went slack, but she kept a steady grip on both. 

“You need to wield me with two hands, boss!” the sword said. 

She didn’t reply. She looked into the chuul’s eyes, two little black beads on the side of its head. It was commanding her to come closer, but she stayed put. This was already dangerous enough without moving into a confined space that had a tendency to trap her feet. 

They warily stared each other down for a moment. 

She bent double, racking her lungs with coughs, and slowly slumped to the ground, her body lying face up as the breath in her lungs died away. The light continued shining. 

* * *

The chuul moved forward, its long-toed feet making squelches in the mud. It tilted its head to one side and brushed its massive claw against the limp body, the shell scratching the concrete. 

The suddenness of this fall seemed to puzzle it, but it moved forward nonetheless. The chuul bent its long forelegs and lowered its red tentacles towards the body, ready to paralyze its prey and feast. 

* * *

Lidia sprang up, shoving the light stone towards its eyes.

The chuul was unaccustomed to this brightness, but it was a creature of swamps and estuaries. It recovered much more quickly than the mind flayer could. 

But not quickly enough. 

This sword really should have been wielded with two hands, but she couldn’t fight in the dark. She held the stone aloft. Even though she was more than strong enough to use the sword, the length of its blade and hilt were still unwieldy. She’d just have to do her best. 

With one hand, she slashed at the creature’s tentacles. Three fell to the ground, wriggled, and fell still. 

She slashed again. Six more tentacle ends joined them, all shining with mucus in the dim light. 

The chuul sprang up with a terrible shriek, raised and opened one of its massive claws. It lunged forward, looking to trap her in its massive spiked pincers. 

The claw snapped closed. She leapt backwards, missing it by inches.

She shouted a challenge. If she could get it further outside its lair -- 

Instead, it issued another shriek, retreating into the darkness. For this creature, and probably for the mind flayer as well, meals came to them with much less effort than this one had already taken. Likely it would go back to its muddy, dark cavern to nurse its wounds. 

Lidia now had a choice: to follow the chuul inside and finish it off, or try to save the prisoner that still remained. 

It felt wrong to leave the chuul and the mind flayer there, to simply let them go on their way and take more victims. But she would have to go in alone, and the only thing she’d accomplish alone would be giving them one, possibly two free meals. 

She turned aside from the tunnel and knelt next to the prisoner, turning her over to her front. 

This one was a slight, amber-skinned young woman who seemed little older than Celyce, though it was possible that long years of mistreatment had pared her close to the bone. Her dark eyes were red and running, blinking listlessly and rapidly, her words tumbling over themselves.

Immediately, Lidia hooked her arms under her armpits, pulled herself up, and started dragging the woman down the smooth concrete of the tunnel. She kept a weather eye out for any sign of further trouble, stopping only to shine the light forward. 

Lidia’s extra burst of strength faded as she dragged her along, but the weight was little trouble regardless. She didn’t stop until they reached the intersection. Everyone else had left, probably as soon as the chuul’s influence was broken. All was silent except for running water, faint echoes, and the sound of her breath. 

She had hoped that moving to better air would help the woman’s condition, but little changed. She laid her out and knelt next to her again. Her hand hovered over the woman’s neck. She closed her eyes and went back to the well.

When the power stopped flowing, Lidia opened her eyes again. She sat back for a moment to compose herself, ruefully noting that everything between her belt and the soles of her feet was splashed with foul-smelling mud. 

She had drawn power from the dark well twice now. Each time, and every time before that, was a wresting and a turning. Not only was the effort exhausting, it made her vulnerable to imaginings about what lay in the shadows. She used this power only when necessary to heal, fortify, and strengthen herself and others. That was not what it wanted. 

* * *

The poison had stopped its work upon the woman. She breathed more easily, but didn't stir except to cough. 

Lidia leaned over, took her hand into hers, and focused her thoughts on a desire to help her. This time, she was not drawing dark strength from the well, but was instead like a stone buried beneath a river. The power flowed from outside herself and through herself, and it felt bright and clean as it passed. 

The woman sat up and looked about her, eyes blinking in the faint white light. “What happened? Where are we?”

“You’re safe for now, but we need to leave.” Lidia helped her to her feet. 

“Where are the others?”

“Here,” Sebire said, striding towards them, hand shining bright. “We all went further down except for Hendak. He turned back, saying he could help you.” 

Lidia’s brow furrowed. “I never saw him.”

“He can’t be lost. If anyone deserves an escape, it is he.” Sebire turned aside for a moment, then sharply glanced at Lidia. “Still, we must go forward.” 

“Agreed. The only other way he could have gone was there.” Lidia pointed back to where the tunnel continued in a straight line. “The others will go with you, and I can retrace our steps and try to find any sign of him. He can’t have gone far.” She never liked splitting the party if she could help it, but it seemed better to keep everyone else together.

Sebire and her charge disappeared into the darkness, and again Lidia was alone. 

* * *

Lidia started walking the other direction, leaving the intersection behind her, her feet keeping an automatic pace as her mind worked. 

“You said we were going to kill something!” the sword protested. 

“Change of plans.”

“I bet that big beefy guy would have killed it.”

She wondered which one he meant, then decided it didn’t matter. “He’d be dead, too.”

She recalled the route that Sebire had taken, and tried to remember whether any other tunnels led from that way into different directions, wondering where Hendak would have gone. And, more importantly, why he’d left. He’d begged Lidia to free him, assisted Sebire, fallen into line, and tried to stop others from coming closer to the chuul. Besides, as far as she knew, all he had was the dagger, the torch, and the key to the portal at the Coronet.

Unless he was in fact lost, there was something dearer to him than freedom that required a way back in.

She started running. 


	17. Chapter 17

As Lidia traced her way through the tunnels, finding each marker that she’d noted, she briefly wondered about the circumstances that had led to her running alone through the city’s dark, dank bowels. 

In some ways, this was inevitable. Nothing was ever as simple as just smiting the evildoer and going home. Deeds were never divorced from their circumstances -- what was done, whom it was done to, how it happened, and what the consequences might be. Finding the right way forward was one part considering all of this, and another part balancing contemplation with action. It was a difficult dance that took a lifetime to master. But sometimes, the hardest part was remembering to start the pattern of steps. 

* * *

She saw a dim light appear around a corner. She turned and ran after it.

She returned to the long tunnel where the group had started, with the entrance to the Coronet open. The portal had reappeared in a ring of blue light, opening again to the prison cell. Hendak was nowhere in sight. 

The opening began to steadily shrink as she approached. She called up one last burst of energy, sprinting forward.

When she had closed the distance to ten feet away, it stopped contracting, perhaps acknowledging her will. She leapt through the remaining hole with little trouble, and it snapped closed behind her. 

The prison was completely empty, and the wooden door was wide open, its lock destroyed and its wood splintered. She rushed through, taking a left down the hallway to the stadium.

* * *

The diversion had worked even better than she’d hoped. A thick, dark grey smoke filled the entire balcony, mingled with a great commotion below. Most of the spectators were gone except for a few stragglers.

One of them, a nobleman in a royal blue robe, caught her eye as she went forward. “Come no closer! The beast is free and so are the slaves!” he said. He started coughing and tripped over the edge of his robe.

She caught his arm and helped him up, and he stumbled on his way, keeping his head down. 

* * *

She went to the balcony and looked down towards the source of the noise. The smoke lingered over the gladiator pits, leaving them clear. 

The bear and the dwarf were still in the pit. The bear had thrown off its chain; the binding lay idly at the bottom, next to a limp body. The dwarf was uninjured, and for the moment he and the bear seemed to be disregarding each other, each paying much more attention to what was just outside the ring. Three guards surrounded them, but seemed hesitant to come closer. Two more had aimed their longbows towards the rafters, scanning above them for a clear shot at Yoshimo.

* * *

Lidia glanced across the balcony and spotted where the smoke rose. She ran towards the spot, and immediately found the device that Yoshimo had planted in her absence, blinking to clear her eyes from the soot. 

A small, round iron globe had rolled into a corner. Smoke was spurting from a hole in the top. She picked it up, aiming the smoke away from her, and returned to the balcony.

“Can we go whack something now?” the longsword said. The voice drew out the last word as though it were impatient.

The guards with the longbows heard the noise and raised their bows in her direction.

She did the first thing she could think of. She aimed the globe of smoke and threw.

She ducked as soon as it left her hand. Two arrows flew above her head and bounced off the stone walls. One remained embedded in the tapestry. 

The smoke began rising from below, spreading into a cloud near the pit.

* * *

She ran, bounding across the balcony and down the stairs, returning to where the hallway split into three. At the intersection was Hendak. One guard lay at his feet. A second had drawn his sword and was fighting with one arm, while he held the other stiffly. Hendak himself was fighting in the same sandals and tunic he’d worn while escaping. He had hardly a scratch. 

The other guard glanced towards the new arrival on the scene, probably without even thinking. It was the last mistake of his life. 

Hendak’s dagger plunged into his throat. 

* * *

Hendak watched the guard for a moment as he slumped towards the ground, then wiped the dagger on a blood-stained rag. “You have come after all!”

“There’s still a slave in the pit!” Lidia said.

“That way.” He pointed to the middle corridor, and they took off, running down a narrow hallway to a nondescript wooden door marked “EMPLOYEES ONLY.” It wasn’t locked. 

* * *

They found themselves on the stadium floor, not far from one of the fighting rings. A fine layer of sawdust coated the floor, and though it was still clean, one could still detect a faint scent of old blood, especially close to the pits. The cloud of smoke had risen and spread, billowing upwards and over their heads, and the stream was fading as it was nearly spent.

The more pressing matter, however, were the two guards directly in front of them. These two, wearing mail and helmets, had left their longbows behind. 

“You’ll pay for this, Hendak!” one of them said, drawing her sword. “Go back to your cell, and maybe you live.” 

“Is Lehtinan paying you enough to fight for him?” Lidia said, holding her sword into a guard. 

She scowled. “Meddler.” 

She charged Lidia, and the other guard drew his sword and went after Hendak. 

* * *

The guard swung at Lidia first in a crosswise cut. 

Lidia brought down her own sword on top of hers, locking it in place and driving it towards the ground. She drove her hilt upwards against the guard’s jaw, rattling her helmet and causing her to stumble backwards. 

Before she could recover, Lidia cut the guard on her thigh. She stumbled down, crying out and letting go of her sword. 

Lidia picked both swords up, and held them towards her throat. “How about now?” 

“Go to hell.” 

Lidia drove the pommel of her sword against the guard’s helmet. She fell to the ground, helmet rattling, still conscious but in much less shape to move than before. 

Hendak threw down the guard that had been confronting him, and he landed with a sickening crunch. He didn’t get up again. 

* * *

Meanwhile, the bear had now clambered up the pit, fitting in the gap between the stairs and using the spikes to help its way up. It ambled towards the remaining three guards with a rumbling growl. 

One of the guards stepped back with a cry of fright, while the other two held out their halberds.

The dwarf followed the bear up with a wide grin on his face. “Me and this beast here would just like to leave, methinks.” 

The bear reared on its hind legs and roared. 

The guards glanced about like frightened rabbits, first to the bear and the dwarf, then back to Lidia and Hendak. 

“The door’s that way,” Lidia said, pointing in its direction.

The guards still didn’t move.

“If you drop your weapons -- all of them -- and leave, I promise we won’t tell.” 

Evidently, these particular guards were not paid enough. They complied, not so much as looking back as they ran out the door.

* * *

Jaheira shifted from the bear’s form back into hers, then wiped her hands upon the sawdust. “It is about time you came. Both of us are all right, thankfully.” 

“I couldn’t have done this without you,” Lidia said, and Jaheira smiled. “Who’s in the pit over there?”

“The unfortunate beastmaster. They called him in after several minutes passed without the sight of blood. He had his fair share spilled when he brought out the charged prod, though he will live to tell of it.”

The dwarf was still staring at them with a combination of awe and befuddlement. “Well, I’ve heard tell of shapechangers and such, but I’d never thought to see one up close. I’d been on old Snakeface’s bad side for killing off the beastmaster’s pet leopard.” He bowed to Jaheira. “You’ve saved my life, miss.” 

A decisive thump came from the wooden floor above their heads, and Yoshimo appeared at the balcony, carrying his bow. He had a look on his face that told how pleased he was with himself. “A jumpy crowd, if I’ve ever seen one. Between the beastmaster’s fall and the smoke, everything seemed to work nicely.”

“I was hoping for just a bit of confusion, but clearing out the place works, too,” Lidia said. “The others are still helping the prisoners escape. The rest of you may want to lay low until --”

She noticed that Hendak had turned and headed for the exit. She followed him, with everyone else close behind. 

* * *

Lidia called out to him: “Wait!”

He stopped and gave her a fell smile. “I’m set to the task of killing that fiend, Lehtinan. Assist me if you wish.”

She quickly moved between him and the door. “What would you gain from killing him?”

“If he lives, he will be free to continue this sick and twisted enterprise. And if he dies, I intend to take over the inn to ensure that no one else uses it like this.”

Perhaps someone wiser would have stood aside. Possibly nothing would change if she did. Lehtinan certainly had it coming. And yet this was still paying evil for evil. She’d hoped to avoid what happened at the Harper Hall, too, but that was seeming less and less likely.

“He deserves to die,” she said. “But if you go through with this plan, you won’t be able to keep this place for long. What’ll happen when the city finds out?” 

“No ‘civilized’ creature could possibly understand what I have suffered!” Hendak shouted. “Those nobles in the balcony leered at my spilled blood and my toil and you, knight, are of the same kind as they. Whatever game you wish to see played, you have never known honor not derived from station, nor the pain of being chained like an animal.” 

She had to calm the words on their way up. “You’ve suffered more than I can know. But you can’t do this, Hendak.”

“You cannot stop me.” 

“I will if I must.” 

Hendak scowled and reached for the dagger on his belt. 

Lidia stepped back, but chose not to raise her sword yet, keeping an eye on his hand. 

As soon as Hendak’s fingers closed around the hilt, he paused. A shadow lifted over his face.

Finally he said, “You have an idea, friend?” 

“I do. Let’s go.”


	18. Chapter 18

Hendak and Lidia went through the double doors, now left unwatched. To Lidia’s relief, Celyce was lingering on the stairs, which led to a level on top of the common room.

A commotion had raised in the other half of the Coronet. Lehtinan was sitting at a table, surrounded by a flock of nobles in brightly colored robes. Some had raised their voices. All were furious. 

Hendak shouted his name. Immediately, the entire room turned towards him.

“What?! Hendak? You ignorant, barbaric slave! You're behind all of this chaos, aren't you? I'll take it out of your hide!” Lehtinan roared as he pushed a chair aside. 

Lidia stepped in front of Hendak, drawing her sword and holding it in a guard in front of her. “If blame is needed, it falls upon me.”

“He put you up to this, didn’t he?” He fumbled for a leather pouch on his belt. “How much to make this go away?”

“Save it,” Lidia said. “I involved myself when I found you’d kept slaves.” 

At the mention of slaves, some of the watching patrons stared into their drinks. 

Bernard strode forward from behind the bar. “We agreed we’d have no truck with Roenall and his lot. What’s in your true book?” His face rapidly turned red as he started shouting, animating his words with his hands. “Remember Ployer? I’ve half a mind to do the same to you!”

* * *

Lehtinan advanced on Lidia, pulling a knife from his pocket and unfolding it. He abruptly stopped at the end of her longsword. He addressed her: “Who gave you the right to tell me what to do with my property?”

“Who gave you the right to buy and sell others?” she retorted.

“Hendak is a commodity, nothing more. And if he became a commodity through his own incompetence, that is his affair, not mine.” 

She wanted to kill him, if only to wipe that smug look off of his face. Likely the only ones who stood before him with weapons drawn were either drunk ruffians or people who called him "sir." But she held still and didn’t break her glare. “Let me get this straight -- if I step aside, and Hendak runs you through, that’s your affair, not mine.” 

“You’ve already ruined me by releasing the slaves. I’ll lose most of my business, and with my debts, I’ll lose my life as well.” He sounded less enraged, and more resigned. “You’ve done enough. Get out of my sight.” 

His mouth was still turned into a cold parody of a smile, but she recognized the grim look in his eyes. She had seen it before on the face of someone seeking death.

She could see out the corner of her eye that Yoshimo, Jaheira, and the dwarf had now followed them here, and were waiting off to the side. No one made a move to where Lehtinan stood; no one spoke up in his defense. Bernard seemed one beat away from attacking his partner himself. 

* * *

A disembodied voice rang out from Lidia’s sword: “Come oooonnn…” 

Lehtinan jerked towards what he thought was the direction of the sound. 

She swept her sword towards his head. He snapped back just in time to counter it, wildly managing a block with his knife. 

But made a critical mistake. The blade locked directly where the fold was, causing the backspring to fail. The knife slipped closed and out of his hand, clattering to the floor. 

“Grab his hands!” She kept the sword pointed at Lehtinan’s throat. 

In an instant, Bernard, Jaheira, and Yoshimo all rushed forward and restrained him, forcing him to his knees. 

Lidia said, “Maybe the garrison will take you in without your coin.”

Lehtinan spit out a curse as he struggled, but he stayed put.

“Celyce!” Bernard called out. He leaned forward, bringing down his weight to reinforce his grip. “Run out and get Khellor. Tell him to bring friends.” 

The girl instantly obeyed, going outside. 

Hendak, meanwhile, had said nothing. But as soon as Lehtinan was restrained, he turned and stormed towards the door. A number of patrons were also leaving, some because the excitement was over, and others because they didn’t want to meet the garrison any more than Lehtinan did. They all at least had the sense to stand aside until Hendak left, slamming the door behind him.

* * *

Several guards came in a few minutes and took charge of Lehtinan. Lidia was concerned that they’d accept a bribe, but as they took him out into the night, Lehtinan went with them quietly, seemingly defeated. 

Bernard mopped the sweat from his brow and went to the guest rooms. He emerged in a few moments. Just behind him was Ganthet, wrapped in a brown blanket and tapping his way forward with a thin wooden cane. 

Lidia gave a questioning look towards them both, and Bernard said, “He just turns up at the bar, easy as you please. Yoshimo was expecting trouble and told me so, but Ganthet here was the last person I’d expect to come walking in. Think it was after you went with Lord Jierdan.” 

“Do you need help?” she asked the priest.

“Thank you, but no.” He slowly made his way across the room, parallel to the long brazier, tapping the whole way.

The whole room watched with respectful silence as he went, with only a shout of “Good to have ye back, old man!” 

Ganthet only acknowledged them when he reached the door, turning and addressing the crowd in his thin voice. “If anyone needs healing, they are welcome at the hospital. My wife and I will see to them.” 

* * *

After an hour or so, most of the less injured guards left their posts. Lidia and the others combed the balcony and the fighting pits for anyone who was still left behind. A few guards had to be carried up to the shrine. One still remained: the guard that Lidia had downed. This one was still on the floor with a large, red lump on her chin. 

“Do you know me?” Lidia asked.

The guard slurred something incoherent. 

Immediately Lidia knelt next to her, focusing her attention on the woman’s entire head. Her hand hovered over the lump. She closed her eyes and drew from the well one more time. Almost instantly, the lump disappeared. 

A flash of recognition and anger crossed her face as soon as the magic worked. Lidia got to her feet first, but the other didn’t move. 

“What happened?” the guard said. 

“Lehtinan’s gone.” 

The guard spat at her. “You’ve cost me my job, you bitch.” 

“Please leave,” Lidia said, gesturing towards the door with her sword. 

The guard got up and went to the door, shooting Lidia one dark glare before she left.

* * *

A couple hours later, nearly everything inside the Coronet had been set right: the bloodstains had been cleaned as best as possible, the chairs and tables put back into place, the smoke vented, the doors to the fighting rings locked and bolted. 

“Anything more you need?” Lidia asked Bernard. 

“Nah, everything’s fine,” he said. “We found Lehtinan’s war chest with all the goods he’d been ripping off us. They’ll be sold to repay his debts and to get the slaves home. The beastmaster and his animals been shown the door. The extra cooks too. Too bad about that, but Skratha would skin ‘em in a tenday.” Bernard looked out over the tables: a dozen patrons or so had drifted back into the Coronet and were quietly talking and nursing drinks. The scene was a far cry from the raucous early evening.

“What happens to the Coronet now?” Lidia said.

Bernard dismissed it with a wave of his hand. “We’ll have to trim some things off, sure, but the games were a money pit by the by. We’ll muddle through somehow. We did before Lehtinan’s bright ideas and we’ll do it again.” 

“And Hendak?” 

“He came back in. Wasn’t happy with how things went by any means, but he was talking with me. Says he don’t have anything to go back to. The guards won’t have any reason to raid this place anymore, so that’s another expense gone. Maybe the extra money could go towards paying another employee, aye?” He leaned in close. “Having Lehtinan out is a relief and no mistake. You know we ain’t done with the old snake, even so.” 

He motioned towards the front door. “Everyone else’s been wanting to see you up in the shrine when you get a moment.” 

* * *

She left behind the talking sword in her room and went outside.

A low mist lay upon the street and shrouded the few lamps burning, and the night was cloudy. Lidia opened the front door of the Coronet, turned to the left, ascended the moist and creaking stairs and passed the row of ramshackle houses on the roof towards the temple. 

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw one of the shadows shift, and turned on her heel towards it.

The shadow said, “You’ve been busy, miss.” 

“Gaelan.”

“Your memory’s gotten better, aye? But not as good as me friends would like.” He sprung from his hiding place and moved towards her, almost with a kind of swagger. He’d been friendly the last time they’d met, but something in his voice this time put her on alert. 

Lidia’s hand went for the hilt of her sword. “That’s close enough.”

“Just as well. That business with Lehtinan...that ain’t friendly doings.” 

He faded from sight altogether, veiled by the fog and darkness. 

  
  



	19. Chapter 19

Lidia stopped just outside the door to the small temple to Ilmater. The unpolished glass windows, both in the temple and in the hospital next door, allowed a diffuse golden light through, lending a faint glow to the sleepy neighborhood. It was the only light here; since it was far above the street, the city didn’t bother putting lanterns here. 

Just before she went inside, she was suddenly mindful of the fact that her boots were caked with a thick layer of foul-smelling mud. By now, it had hardened. Hoping that their condition would make them unappealing targets, she removed the boots and left them just outside the door.

She found everyone gathered inside the shrine, lingering wordlessly. Ganthet was lighting and placing candles at the altar. The entire room was filled with their light and the smell of burning wicks, and they gave off a faint warmth -- not enough to stave off the chill of early spring, but enough to diminish it. Hendak was in a corner by himself, his arms folded. 

As soon as she entered and greeted the group, Ganthet turned his head and set down the candle. He wound his way through the ramshackle arrangement of tables and chairs, deftly enough to show that he knew this room well even without sight. He went to the wall that the temple shared with the hospital, then rapped on it gently. 

In a moment, Sebire also appeared in the doorway, drying her hands on her tunic. 

* * *

Lidia finally spoke up. “Good to see you all. Are the slaves safe?” 

“They are,” Sebire said. “They’re now in a safe house in the Docks, largely thanks to the people you sent with us.” 

Minsc held his hamster high. “All will remember the heroes that are Minsc and Boo and us!” 

“Ah...yes, though you ought to consider finding some sort of restorative boon,” Anomen said. 

“I know I think clearly because Boo tells me so. That is enough for me.”

Sebire chuckled, then continued, “We had feared that Lehtinan would try to take them back, but now I hear it’s not so.” She tilted her head in a questioning glance to Lidia.

“He’s no longer a problem,” Lidia said. She hoped to herself that it would prove true. 

“We could have killed him,” Yoshimo said. “It would have been simpler.” 

Hendak unfolded his arms and strode forward. A fire flashed in his eyes beneath his unkempt yellow hair. “Aye, it would have been. Or if you had not the stomach, I’d have repaid him well.” 

Ganthet stared over at the group with a thoughtful look on his face. “Perhaps true justice would have come from showing him what kind of pain he inflicted on others.”

Sebire turned away, looking distinctly uncomfortable.

“That was the idea,” Lidia said. “He’ll spend a life in a cage, much as you did, Hendak. He’s nothing without his money, or his control over others. He would have preferred to die a lord rather than live as nothing. And so death would have been too quick a punishment for him.”

Hendak asked, nearly shouting, “Do you know how much blood he spilled? How many lives he spent for coins in his pocket?”

“Killing him wouldn’t have brought any of them back,” she said. 

He barged his way past, nearly knocking Lidia aside, and slammed the door behind him as he went into the night. 

* * *

A long moment of silence passed, then Ganthet said, “Still, nonetheless, a great wrong has been undone, and for that we thank you.”

“Of course,” Lidia said. “I mean, my thanks should also go to everyone else, here. It took everyone to pull this off. Let me know if there’s anything in the future you need.” 

He nodded to Sebire, then said, “There is one thing. I absolutely insist that you accept this from us.” 

Sebire went up to the altar, reached into a box on the side, and pulled out a grey folded cloth. “A spare, here,” she said. “Wear it well.” 

Lidia unfolded it. The cloth was a bit slubbed and rough, made from undyed grey wool, the kind one could buy in the Promenade for a silver piece. It was a yard wide and about two and a half yards long, with a hole in the middle for one’s head. Centered below that hole was the symbol of Ilmater, the Crying God: two white hands bound by a red thread, done with care in simple cloth and cotton thread. This was a simple tabard of the kind the Ilmaterite clergy wore, and so rightfully hers too, though she didn’t feel it was so as she stared at it. 

* * *

Gorion’s Company left the temple shortly afterwards. Most of them were eager to settle in for the night, so Lidia let them go on ahead to their rooms in the Coronet -- she wanted to clean off her boots outdoors before turning in. She set the tabard aside, then sat in the middle of the worn planks, as far out as she could while still benefiting from the small stream of light. 

To her surprise, Anomen stayed behind. She didn’t mind, especially since she had no idea whether Gaelan or any friends he’d brought were still lingering in the shadows.

“Run into much trouble down there?” she asked, after exchanging a few pleasantries.

“We dispatched some over-bold brigands but little else,” he said. “I hope you at least considered this episode worth your while,”

“I’m sure the former slaves appreciate your efforts,” she said mildly. She dashed the boots against the wood, and some of the mud fell off in cakes. 

“Now, that job Lord Jierdan offered...I’d offered my talents to his cause, but he had stated this was a task best suited for a group. A band of knights from the Order have been in the Windspear Hills for a tenday; he must have had great difficulty eliminating the beasts from his lands.”

He paused and seemed to be working his way towards a thought. Lidia had a guess as to what it was. “You wanted to try to find them?”

“Indeed. However, even one skilled at arms can be caught unawares. If you and your group are heading east, we ought to join forces until then.” 

It made a kind of sense, but one question stood out for her. “The Order lets you do as you please?” 

“I was sent home from my last campaign earlier than expected, and my Test of knighthood is in four months’ time. My only duty for the time being is to remain in Amn and find deeds to do until then.”

* * *

So the deal was struck; Anomen would adventure with the Company to the Windspear Hills until he joined forces with his fellows. They shook hands on it, and parted ways in front of the Coronet.

Lidia went inside. The common room was mostly still, except for a few drunks dozing in one corner. Bernard was setting everything straight for the night when he called to her. 

“Oi, maybe you can help with something. Have you seen a key?” 

“Which one?” she asked, though she already had a sneaking suspicion which one he meant. 

“The one to the cells. I got Lehtinan’s spare, but mine has gone and disappeared. It’s not the end of Toril if I don’t find it, but I want ‘em all accounted for.” 

“I think I know who has it, but I’ll make sure,” she said. This would have to be handled carefully. 


	20. Chapter 20

In the finest traditions of the Life, Yoshimo suggested that they celebrate their most recent success with a shopping trip. Their limited number of coins didn’t deter him. “Besides,” he said, “you hardly got a chance to appreciate Waukeen’s Promenade the last time you all were there.” 

So the next day, early in the morning, Lidia, Jaheira, Minsc, and Yoshimo started crossing the great bridge to the other side of the Alandor River. 

* * *

They could see the golden domes of Promenade from the bridge, and as they made their way down Waukeen’s Way, a number of merchants were already setting up shop along the street. As Yoshimo explained, the Promenade was the most prestigious place to do business in Amn and not everyone could afford to rent a spot inside. 

And in fact the space out here was mostly utilitarian: hitching posts, water troughs, wells, even a few offices inside some old terra-cotta buildings. But as the Company drew closer to one of the great stone arches, the smell of animal waste gave way to the smell of roasting meat, with several stands beginning to prepare for the larger crowds coming later. These arches, like the domes atop the wall, were wrought in gold and yellow limestone; they supported the Promenade’s walls and provided a grand entryway for all visitors. At this particular one were a series of pens holding an assortment of exotic animals: a tiger, a great serpent, an elephant, a kamatlan, and a giant bombardier beetle were the closest and most easily identifiable ones. On the other side of this makeshift zoo was a massive marquee tent, curtained and covered in gold and white. 

A large crowd was gathering around it, but not to see what was inside. A guard wearing the holy symbol of Helm cast a ward on the entrance, then turned to the crowd. “The circus has been closed until this matter is resolved,” he said. “Go about your business, citizens.”

A small boy was tugging on the guard's tabard and crying, "My mama's in there!" Another woman shouted, "I paid good money to see this circus! Why aren't you doing anything about it?" A number of angry murmurs arose in much the same vein.

“Everyone we have sent in to investigate has not come out. Foul magic, no doubt, is involved. We are waiting for the Cowled Wizards to arrive.”

Jaheira looked to Lidia. 

“As much as I hate to say it,” Lidia said, “this might be one for the experts.” She missed Dynaheir’s company, but now she felt the loss of the wychlaran’s expertise keenly. 

Minsc, for his part, was unusually thoughtful and gently stroking Boo with his thumb. Was he thinking the same thing? she thought. 

The crowd began to disperse, and the Company continued into the arch, saying no more about the matter.

* * *

Lidia had spent her entire childhood inside the library-fortress of Candlekeep. She had known the names of everyone who lived there, and every visitor had been carefully noted and tracked by the Avowed. She’d had some time to get used to large crowds in Baldur’s Gate, but this crowd was a completely different kind. 

What set Waukeen’s Promenade apart was the variety of people -- humans, elves, halfings, dwarves, occasional tieflings and gnomes -- and the din of different languages and sales pitches and colors and smells that assaulted anyone passing through. Most of the denizens here had learned to filter all this out, concentrating only on getting to the next destination and deftly navigating the chaos, but newcomers were often left dazed. The latter were easy to spot; oftentimes, they stared, awed, at everything within their field of vision. Lidia herself retained just enough awareness of her surroundings to stay out of the way of foot and animal traffic. 

Everyone was streaming into the massive yellow limestone stadium, the four arches towering far above their heads on thick pillars. Several oblong levels inside the stadium were stacked on top of each other; as she heard later, these were the permanent, year-round shops, open even during the brief and mild winter. The most well-established and prestigious were on the first level, with the rent getting progressively cheaper as one ascended the stairs to the fifth. Now that the weather was warming, four lines of colorful tents lined and filled the sandy floor, attracting buyers and sightseers alike. A number of people, mostly nobles in brightly colored robes and turbans, seemed to have come only to see and be seen. 

The most distinct part of the whole place, however, was the large scar in the wall of the Promenade. Seeing it now, and from this distance, Lidia realized how much damage Irenicus and the Wizards had done. The rubble extended all the way down from top of the wall to the bottom, and it seemed to cover four shops and one of the entrances. Cleanup had been going slowly. Still, despite this reminder of recent violence, the whole place had an air of a festival, rather than of commerce. At many of the booths, buyers and sellers were engaged in conversation. As the Company wandered among the tents, Lidia pointed this out to Yoshimo. 

“Ah, you didn’t know?” Yoshimo said. “It’s the Amnish custom to negotiate most sales.”

“Doesn’t that take up a lot of time?” Lidia asked. 

“If the sale is big enough, then it’s well worth the while,” he said. “Not so much for foodstuffs and other trifles, but for, say…” 

He gestured to where two men were arguing over a large rug, knotted in a graceful arched pattern in red and gold. An array of others were arranged over wooden stands. Even in the shade, their colors seemed to glow. 

Yoshimo continued, “Both parties will try to get the best out of the deal, of course, but that’s how things get done.” 

As they continued their leisurely browsing, she asked him, “How long have you been in Amn?” 

“I am from Kozakura, originally, but I’ve lived here since the fall of last year,” he said. 

She remembered seeing Kozakura on a map somewhere; it was on the other side of the world in Kara-Tur. “What brought you here?” 

“I came to seek my fortune. What else?” he said with a grin. “There are rumors, you know, that the streets of Athkatla are paved in gold. Now, I wasn’t expecting to see golden streets here, but I can see where some might say that.” 

“You don’t strike me as the mercantile sort. How would you find a fortune?” 

“Ah, a fair question,” he said. “You know as well as I that where money goes, trouble follows, yes?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “And we’re adventurers. Trouble is where we profit most.”

She smiled wryly. She’d just seen twenty-one winters, and she’d already been involved in enough trouble for at least one lifetime. Whether profit had followed was still an open question. “True enough.”

* * *

“Weapons both magical and plain! Stolen armor from the lairs of Dragons! Scrolls of sorcery! Fine Dwarven crafts from the Deep - you won’t find better! Anything you need, we have!” A voice somehow seemed to float above the others’. Whether it was louder or just better at carrying itself, none could say. About fifty feet or so ahead, a few shoppers were shooting annoyed looks at the voice’s source.

Jaheira seemed to perk up in its direction. “We should stop here,” she said, and she turned towards it. The Company followed. 


	21. Chapter 21

The Company went past the shouting dwarf, through the nondescript door behind him. 

The first thing that struck Lidia about this place was the guards, bearing no livery and standing nearly perfectly still. One of them gave a respectful nod and a watchful eye towards the four of them.

The second thing was the darkness. Maybe it was a function of being built into the wall, but the place had no windows and was lit only by a few magical floating balls of light, of the same kind that illuminated the better streets in Athkatla when the sun went down. These were always burning, and most of the time, this place was open. The dimness served an additional function: it was useful for showing off the magical items, which gleamed with a faint aura of light.

And the place was stuffed to the brim with everything magical and mundane that an adventurer could need, so much that the shelves and racks were overflowing: a vast array of weapons and armor, all kinds of camping gadgets (the strangest one by far was a small flint claimed to be a magical fire starter), a shelf of curious tinctures in every color, bins of slinging stones, barrels of arrows, robes and cloaks and boots and rings from far-flung and forgotten places. Overseeing it all were the guards, and a man behind a worn wooden counter on the bottom floor. 

* * *

The exact age of Ribald Barterman, owner and proprietor of the Adventurer’s Mart, was hard to pin down. His pointed ears and the deftness in his movements pointed to elvish blood, but gray streaked his brown hair, the sides of his eyes crinkled, and he was much less slight than elves typically were. A half-elf, Lidia guessed, and one that had seen and done plenty. He was looking over his books and writing something down. Keeping accounts, presumably.

He came out from behind his station and bowed in greeting to Jaheira. 

They exchanged pleasantries and small talk. “I trust all is well?” Jaheira said.

“Well enough, Miss Jaheira. Ye'll not bring Harper trouble to me doorstep, good lady. Might I remind ye that me days of involvement with yer kin are long over?”

“For the time being, so are mine. There is no need to fear, suspicious one.” 

He bowed. “I should mind me manners, please excuse me. Anything I can do ye for?”

* * *

They spent an hour or two perusing the shop, wondering at the curiosities and finding the more mundane items to be surprisingly useful. After picking out some inexpensive mail, greaves, and vambraces, Lidia made her way up a small stairway and towards the back, along a long row of shelves, where a wyvern was flitting from top to top. Some of the shelves were filled with books, and some seemed to slightly shimmer from a distance, the same way the archives in Candlekeep did. She found herself drawn to the latter, wondering if they were what she thought.

Her eyes did not deceive her. She carefully leafed her way through some of the scrolls. Every one of them seemed to be a spell scroll of some kind, and an exhaustive collection, too. 

“Greetings. I am Lady Yuth. Are you a practitioner of the Art?” a voice behind her said. The voice belonged to a human woman, about fifty or so, wearing a bright blue dress and navy surcoat, a cloth-of-gold turban upon her head and shining in the dim light against her dark-brown skin. Her voice was pleasant, but her glance was sharp and questioning as she touched the cricket upon her shoulder.

“I’m not, but a friend of mine is.” Lidia noted, with a tinge of regret, how much Imoen would have liked this spot. “These seem to be all spell scrolls. Have you no fear of the Cowled Wizards?” 

She waved off the question with her hand. “Those pompous fools? You can buy their permission, if you know who to talk to. Would you like to see my wares?” 

Lidia stared at shelves for a moment. Most of them were an array of parchments until she came to a row of what appeared, at first glance, to be a row of leather-bound books. They were in fact spell cases, each carefully made and bound with a fine leather lace; they were meant to keep scrolls organized and to keep their magic where it was supposed to be, curbing its tendency to leak. 

There was one in particular that stood out to her. Its main distinguishing feature was its color, a dusty pink. She pulled it out and examined it. Imoen would like the color, certainly, and most of the time, her friend kept her scrolls inside the front cover of her spellbook. She’d kept complaining that they got loose in her pack. 

Lidia considered the dent that this would put in her armor fund. Still, having a place to keep scrolls would come in handy. And she hoped against hope that someday, Imoen would come to possess it. 

* * *

“What can you tell me about this one?” Lidia asked. 

“Oh, this? It’s well-sealed against the damp and if you were to throw it in the fire, it would go for a full minute without burning. Would you like it?”

“How much?” Lidia asked. 

“Three hundred gold pieces.”

Lidia was about to protest, but then remembered what Yoshimo said about making purchases here. “You’d have to fill it up with scrolls for me to take that. Seventy-five.”

“Two hundred fifty, but you’re getting a bargain as it is.” 

“A hundred. I can always go up to the next row of shops.” 

“Two hundred, but I’m starving my children for it.” The gleam in her eye told Lidia that her story wasn’t entirely serious.

“Hundred seventy-five. I fell out of the crack in the Promenade last tenday.”

Lady Yuth furrowed her brow, saying nothing but clearly guessing something. The fear of saying too much flashed through Lidia’s mind.

But the other laughed, mostly to herself. “Your accent tells me that you’re a visitor, but your negotiating says otherwise. Very well. Yours for a hundred seventy-five.”

Lidia accepted the deal. The transparent attempt at flattery notwithstanding, she thought she did all right for the first time. 

* * *

After paying Lady Yuth and wishing her farewell, she went back down the stairs. 

“There you are!” Jaheira seemed agitated. “Minsc and Yoshimo are gone.” 

“What happened?” Lidia asked. 

Ribald spoke up. “The big fella said something about what Dynaheir would have done, and just up and left.” 

“They went to that tent,” Jaheira said. 

They left in a moment. 

* * *

The sun had climbed higher, so Lidia and Jaheira wound their way through an increasingly large crush of people and animals and goods, completely shutting out anything that wasn’t their destination. 

They returned to the marquee tent. The Helmite guard was still there, renewing the ward he’d placed over the entrance. The crowd was gone, now that they were deprived of a show. A number of guards in black livery stood around him, halberds at the ready. They put on a good show of alertness, but some seemed to be annoyed at the prospect of nothing happening -- and nothing continuing to happen -- for hours.

Jaheira and Lidia drew clower. Just before they encountered the ring of guards, they passed a carefully hand-lettered sign:

“QUAYLE QUINAPALUS’S

THREE-RING CIRCUS

The Finest Show in Athkatla

DARING DEEDS • GAMES OF CHANCE • FANTASTIC BEASTS

Starring 

KALAH THE GREAT

And his lovely assistant

AERIE, MISTRESS OF MAGIC.”

* * *

Two guards blocked their path, crossing their halberds. “The circus is closed. Go about your business.” 

“Did they figure out what happened?” 

“No, they didn’t. The Cowled Wizards cast some kind of spell over a guard platoon and sent them in. They haven’t returned,” one of them said. 

The other one grumbled, “Ah, what’s it matter if nosy civilians are going to barge in anyway?” 

The most telling detail, Lidia thought, was the word “barge.” She asked, “This may be a long shot, but...you wouldn’t have happened to see a large, heavily-armed man carrying a hamster, then?” 

“Strangely enough, I did. He had another fellow with him, too. I told him the circus is closed, but he claimed to have ‘swords and braveness to the brim of the tall glass of goodness’ and went inside anyway.”

She said, “You know we need to follow them in, right? They’re friends of mine and I’d rather have them back in one piece.”

“If you must,” the guard said with a resigned sigh. “We’ve already lost an entire garrison squad inside this tent, and that with the Cowls putting some kind of magery on ‘em. I doubt you’ll do any better.” 

He turned back to the Helmite guard, who gave a silent nod, and the other two guards uncrossed their weapons and stood aside. 

“So the Wizards won’t help further?” Jaheira asked them as they passed. 

“They’ll be back eventually. Likely they’ll blow this place up from range.” The guard sighed in resignation. “And we’ll lose good people, too. Not that they care.” 

So much for trusting the experts, Lidia thought. “Give me two hours,” she said to the Helmite guard.

He gave them the once-over, stepping aside from the entrance of the tent. With a muttered incantation, he removed the ward, then said, “You’ll likely get more. They didn’t make it a priority.” 

“Thanks.” 

“Don’t say we didn’t warn you.” He moved forward, resuming his place with the others. 

* * *

Lidia examined the entrance to the tent. Between the parted curtains, the entrance looked as though someone had taken the surface of a black lake and turned it sideways, a curtain rippling like water. 

“What do you make of this?” she asked Jaheira. 

“Your guess is as good as mine,” the other said.

With her left hand on the hilt of her shortsword, Lidia slid her right hand into the curtain. It passed through like water, but without the coolness or wetness. 

She gasped in surprise. 

On the other side of the membrane, her hand had changed. In an instant, it was massive, muscular, and green-tinged, like the hand of an ogre. 

She withdrew her hand in an instant, eyeing it suspiciously. It was now the same hand she’d put in: pale skin, short fingers, covered in freckles, and flecked with a few fine red-gold hairs above three of the knuckles. 

“Well, that was strange,” Jaheira said. “I’ve no idea --”

“I’m immune to charms, so it’s not altering my perception,” Lidia said, slowly at first. “It didn’t feel any different either going out or coming in -- that was the part that surprised me the most -- so I don’t think it’s an alteration spell. I think...it’s some kind of illusion. A really big one.”

“And yet you cannot cast a single cantrip,” Jaheira said with a faint smile.

“Not because the monks didn’t try to teach me, certainly. Still, you don’t spend twenty years in Candlekeep without picking up a few things here and there.” But not nearly enough, Lidia thought, for something like this. 

But this was the only chance they -- or anyone else in the tent, for that matter -- really had. 

Lidia turned back to her friend with a determined nod. One close behind the other, they plunged into the darkness.


End file.
